After Yesterday's Detours
by TdeAlba
Summary: Set roughly nine years in the future. In the aftermath from the Cristian reveal both John and Natalie left Llanview. What happens when they are reunited at Thanksgiving.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimers:** I don't own these characters and am getting no money for my use of them. I do not have any rights to the song in this chapter either.

**Author's note:** The song is "This Time Tomorrow" by Libby Wiebel. I transcribed the lyrics myself so I apologize for any mistakes (one verse left out on purpose).

_

* * *

This time tomorrow  
I'll be feeling better  
This time tomorrow  
I'll be on my way  
This time tomorrow  
I'll be headed somewhere  
This time tomorrow_

Natalie looked around her room—if it had ever really been that. She'd never fully inhabited it she realized. The décor had been picked out by someone else and she'd never bothered to change it. It hadn't bothered her, it just wasn't… her. Hers. Everything she was taking was boxed up and loaded in her car and the room still looked pretty much the same. Maybe she'd always known it would be a temporary way station. Maybe that was why she'd never redecorated; her mother certainly wouldn't have minded. So this was her last night at Llanfair. She needed to sleep, tomorrow would be a long day. But there were butterflies in her stomach and it wasn't going to be easy.

_The way I see it, I ain't got no one to hold my hand  
The way I see it, this trip's up to me  
And I ain't never been afraid of a detour  
If it's gonna happen gotta answer to me_

She sank down at the window seat. It felt so different than it had that night back in September when she'd sat there flirting with John. It was so much colder now and she didn't think it was just a result of the weather. She tried to push him out of her mind. He was out of her life; or at least he would be tomorrow. John and Cristian and anyone or anything else that kept trying to shape her life for her.

That's what this was all about, wasn't it? This trip. About separating herself completely from expectations and obligations and in the end, from everyone who'd tried to help her. She'd let herself lean too heavily on all those people and nearly lost her ability to stand up in the process. Not any more.

_Something out there told me that I had to go  
Something out there told me today's the day  
And so I'm leaving pack this girl up as I knew her  
Sometimes growing means you've got to go away_

The world is so still at 4:30am she thought as she slammed the trunk of her car. Everything she needed, physically and emotionally was in that car. Everything that she was when it came down to it. She smiled at the sun just beginning to rise. In a few hours her family would wake up and find her note and she knew they'd be hurt and furious, but they'd understand in the end. She'd told them all she was leaving, she just hadn't told them when. She didn't want to face a barrage of good-byes, she was too afraid it would make her lose her nerve.

And, of course, there were the two people who didn't know she was leaving. The thought of having the conversation with either Cristian or John churned her stomach too much and besides, what did she owe them? Her divorce from Cristian had been filed; she wasn't his wife anymore. John knew she'd quit her job, she'd said good-byes to everyone at the station even very tensely to him; she just hadn't made it clear how final those good-byes were. They would both find out soon enough that she'd left, but by then she'd be too far away to care.

_This time tomorrow  
I'll be feeling better  
This time tomorrow  
I'll be on my way  
This time tomorrow  
I'll be headed somewhere  
This time tomorrow _

She climbed in her car and started the engine. She still had butterflies in her stomach; she looked back at the house, tempted to just go back inside and forget the whole thing. Once she was out of the driveway she'd feel better and once she was on the highway even better. Once she was too far away to turn back. By this time tomorrow she'd be free. She looked at the atlas beside her but decided to leave it closed. She didn't know where she was going, she was just going somewhere, and for now, that was enough. Pulling out on the road she thought for a moment before heading south. She was tired of cold, tired of winter, tired of icy blue eyes. She was ready for a warmer climate.

_This time tomorrow  
I'll be feeling stronger  
This time tomorrow  
I will understand  
This time tomorrow  
I will know the way home  
This time tomorrow_

She flopped down on the hard hotel room mattress and stretched out luxuriously. Her toes were still pink from the hot shower and she felt too exhausted to get up and brush her teeth but she felt so good. She'd driven for eighteen hours and it was one of the most exhilarating days of her life. The hotel was in the middle of absolute nowhere and she still had no idea where she was going but the trip itself felt like an accomplishment. And driving on half deserted highways with no destination had given her a lot of time to think. Tomorrow would be another day of driving, another day of thinking, clearing her head, and another day further from Llanview. But it wasn't going anywhere and she could go back whenever she was ready.

_Everyone says, "Why you gotta do this?"  
Everyone says, "What's wrong with the status quo"  
But deep inside I know this would is bigger  
So much bigger you could ever let me know_

She'd called her mom. Called Rex. Called Uncle Bo. Just to check in, let them know she was okay and that she'd be back in touch when she was more settled. All three of them had asked her to come home. They'd all told her that for everyone who'd hurt her in Llanview there were others who loved her. There was no way for her to explain that that was part of the problem. As much anger as she held towards John and Cristian she would have stayed if only out of a refusal to let them push her out of town. But everything about her past in Llanview, even best parts, was holding her down, tying her up, and she needed to get away. Away from them and away from herself. To find out who she was so she could figure out what she wanted.

_This time tomorrow  
I'll be feeling better  
This time tomorrow  
I'll be on my way  
I'll be getting somewhere  
This time tomorrow_

Sometimes she couldn't drive fast enough. Sometimes the depression would catch up with her. Sometimes lying on a musty hotel pillow she'd look over at the empty side of the bed and remember what she'd lost. What she'd almost had. Sometimes a song, a painting, a pool table would catch her eye and it would tear up. And sometimes in the middle of the night she would dream of him knocking on her door. And in the dreams she always let him in… which seemed like such a bad idea in the morning. And then she'd know she had to get in the car and drive again…

_This time tomorrow  
I'll be feeling stronger  
This time tomorrow  
I will understand  
This time tomorrow  
I will know the way home  
This time tomorrow  
This time tomorrow_

She still loved the world just before dawn. The moments just before the sun rose when the world was pink and everything seemed possible. At 4:31 she shut the trunk of her car, climbed in, and started the engine. Four years and she was finally going home. Four years and his picture was still in her wallet. He wasn't the only reason she was going back; hell he wasn't even there. She'd talked to his brother, she knew he'd left town. But he'd be a lot easier to reach from Llanview and it seemed just possible...

Four years was a lot of time to think. A lot of time for exploring and soul searching and there were so many things she understood now that she hadn't back then. About the world, about herself, her heart, and even John. So she pulled out onto the highway and headed North. By this time tomorrow she'd be home.


	2. Chapter 1

The second year after his mother died he finally gave into his brother's prodding to come for Thanksgiving. He always volunteered to work on Christmas so that the guys with kids could have the day off, which meant he got Thanksgiving off. Besides he had a couple weeks worth of worth of leave they were bugging him to use; figured he might as well take a few days to shut Michael up.

Besides, she wouldn't be there. Even if she did happen to come back to Llanview for Thanksgiving she'd be with her family; not much chance of running into each other. He told himself that was for the best, that there wasn't some part of him secretly hoping to see her. Tried not to let his mind spin fantasies about seeing her again. It had been nine years… he should be past that.

Fog in Atlanta during his Tuesday night flight meant that his fifty minute layover took three hours and change and by the time he met Michael any thoughts of her were drown out by the rumblings in his stomach. "Johnny!" Michael said brightly, "How are you?"

"Starved," he said letting Michael embrace him. "Please tell me our next stop is for food."

Michael laughed. "Sure thing." As they walked towards baggage claim. "I was beginning to give up on you, bro. Thought you were trying to weasel out of yet another visit."

"No such luck," John said, "Just the weather. Where's Marcie?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "I told you John, she doesn't get back in town till Thursday morning."

"She's flying on Thanksgiving?" John asked reaching for his bag on the conveyor belt.

Michael sighed. "Speaking engagement Wednesday night. Earliest she could get back."

"The trials of being an international celebrity," he said hoisting the bag onto his shoulder.

"More of a national celebrity. She's taking on the rest of the world next year," Michael said leading the way towards his car. "So you up for Rodi's?"

John smiled. "I've missed this town." He _had_ missed this town. He had missed Rodi's. And yet as soon as he thought of going there part of him wanted to refuse. Because Rodi's meant memories; Rodi's meant Natalie. And she wouldn't be there. She'd headed out of town even faster than he could.

He tried to distract himself by staring out the window as they drove through town. Most of it looked more or less as he remembered except for a store here and there that had changed hands, trees that had grown or been cut down, or a mailbox that had been repainted. Rodi's, on the other hand, looked exactly as he remembered it he thought as they pulled into the parking lot.

As they stepped inside it was so familiar he felt almost as if he'd been through some kind of time warp except that he knew no one inside. A decade ago he knew most of the staff and could always count on someone he knew being there. They used to joke that everyone in Llanview always showed up at the same restaurants on the same night, as if there were some sort of email that went out telling them where to go. But tonight the place was filled with strangers.

Of their own accord his eyes wandered first to the bar and then to the pool table, but at both he saw nothing more than a group of unknown college kids. Not a red-head in sight. They sat down at a table where he'd sat at least a hundred times. Even the menu was virtually the same as he remembered. Michael rambled on about changes that had taken place since he left: the renovations to the hospital, Marcie's new job at the university, little bits and pieces about people he knew. Nothing that honestly interested him that much. "You know who that is, don't you?" Michael asked motioning towards a young man bent over the pool table.

John shook his head. "Matthew Buchanan," Michael said.

He stared at the kid again; hard to believe he was that old but a second look confirmed it—that was definitely Matthew. He watched Matthew play for a moment; he was good. Did his cousin teach him? He and Natalie had always been close. He'd almost worked up the courage to ask when they were interrupted by the waitress.

"Is everything okay here?" the petite blond asked.

John nodded but Michael interjected, "Actually, no. My burger it seriously overcooked."

Panic washed over the waitresses face. She must be new, John realized; not experienced with handling customer complaints. "I'm so sorry sir," she said, "How did you order it?"

"Medium-well," he said cutting into the burger and holding up a section to demonstrate, "this is clearly well-done."

"Actually sir," she said tentatively, "if you look in the center there is a faint pink stripe-"

Michael made a production of looking, "That's pretty faint."

"Michael," John said, surprised by his brother's behavior, "give her a break."

"Well I can get you another one if you'd like," she volunteered.

"That's not necessary," John intervened. It had been a long time since he'd been to a restaurant with Michael true, but this was totally unexpected. He'd never known Michael to complain even if his order really was screwed up.

"Yes it is," Michael said, "and you know what?" He picked up one of his French fries and tossed it back down, "The fries are cold too."

"I'm very sorry sir-" the waitress practically hyperventilated.

"Don't be," John said trying to give her a reassuring look, "they're fine. Ignore him."

"You know what?" Michael said, "I'd really like to speak to the manager."

The waitress blanched. "You would?"

"Michael!" John said.

"I would," Michael insisted.

As the girl slipped away to retrieve the manager John looked at Michael with a mixture of shock and disgust, "Mikey what the hell are you-"

To his further surprise Michael just grinned back. "Watch this?"

Behind him John heard a woman's voice say, "Yes sir, what seems to be the- …Oh. It's you. I should have known." In the past nine years John hadn't heard that voice except in his dreams, but he knew it's every cadence and intonation. If Michael's behavior had surprised him, this new shock nearly stopped his heart. She marched past him and stood with her back to him wearing a clingy burgundy top, that red hair tossed back into a utilitarian ponytail, so absorbed in upbraiding Michael that she hadn't even noticed him yet.

He had pictured this moment so many times… fantasized about running in to her out of the blue. In his fantasies he usually walked into a bar to discover a commotion around a pool table and see a familiar red headed figure bent over the table, wiping the floor with some cocky frat boy. He'd stand to the side unobtrusively and watch her win the game, then she'd turn around, and their eyes would lock… His obnoxious younger brother never figured in to those fantasies.

"Hi!" Michael said brightly.

"Look McBain," she continued, "I know your wife's out of town, but you need to find someway to amuse yourself other than harassing my wait staff, okay?"

"I did," Michael smirked.

"Good!" she said.

"I found this bum wandering around the airport," he continued motioning towards John, "thought you might want to meet him."

It seemed to take her ages to turn. John held his breath. She was still just as beautiful as she remembered. A look of shock crossed her face for only a brief second before she regained her composure and smiled. "John?"

"Hey," was all he could manage to get out.

"I um… I didn't know you were coming," she said.

"I didn't know you were back," he said.

"Yeah," she said, "'Bout five years now." She gave Michael a quick I'll-kill-you-later look and turned back to John to add, "Michael forgot to mention it?"

"He didn't ask," Michael pointed out defensively.

Natalie popped him on the back of the head. She managed to make the gesture look causal, but it sounded as though it hurt. "Ow!" Michael said.

"So you're here for Thanksgiving?" she asked awkwardly.

"Yeah," he said.

"You're here early," she pointed out.

"Flights were cheaper today," he explained.

"Right," she nodded, "When do you leave?"

"Sunday morning," he said.

"So how's New Orleans?" she asked. For some reason that question excited him; she knew where he was. She'd been keeping up with him. He tried to remind himself that he had no way of knowing if that was good or bad.

"It's okay," he said.

"I spent some time there," she said wistfully, "about… wow… I guess it's been seven years now."

"Before I got there," he said.

"I know," she said with half a smile, "I liked it. Didn't know the DEA was there."

"Oh yeah," he smiled, "port city. Plenty of work for us."

"I guess," she said.

"So you're the manager of this place, now?" he asked.

"Owner, actually," she said, "but it's my other manager's night off. Which your brother knew, hence the obnoxious behavior."

There was an awkward moment of silence before Michael interjected. "Marcie's not getting in till Thursday so we're having Thanksgiving dinner at the Palace."

"Oh," Natalie said not really sounding that interested, "I hear they do a good Thanksgiving." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear; she seemed really uncomfortable.

"So what do you and Jonas have planned?" Micahel asked.

"Jonas?" John asked before he could stop himself.

Natalie flashed him a forced smile but said nothing to his exclamation. "Oh, you know, the usual. Dinner at Mom's. Probably have to put in an appearance at Asa's." She looked past them suddenly towards the bar and called out loudly, "Jack Manning, you might as well put the fake ID away! Everyone here knows you're under age!"

A sullen looking fair haired teenager at the bar glared back at her. "Excuse me," she said, "I may have to have my cousin arrested. But hopefully I'll see you before you go back," she patted John on the shoulder, "Good to see you."

"You too!" he called after her as she swiftly made her way to the bar, but he wasn't quite sure if she'd heard him.

* * *

"What kind of a name is Jonas?" John asked as they climbed back in Michael's car. 

"I don't think it's his name that's bothering you," Michael smirked.

John glared at his brother. "Yeah, I bet you think that little stunt you pulled was real cute, huh?"

"Oh it was hilarious," Michael laughed, "If you could have seen the looks on your faces…"

"You could have warned me," John grumbled.

"Probably."

"You could have told me she was in town," he insisted.

"And you could have asked me about her, but you didn't," Michael pointed out.

"Because this is exactly the kind of information you know I would expect you to volunteer," John said angrily.

"Yeah," Michael nodded, "but I thought you needed to work for it." Changing the subject he asked, "You sure you want to stay in a hotel? Marcie and I have a very comfortable couch. I should know, I've been exiled to it a time or two."

John smiled slightly in spite of himself. "No thanks."

"Okay, well if you want, you can drop me off at home and take the car. I can use Marcie's. That way you won't be stranded while I'm at work tomorrow," he offered.

"Yeah," John said, "that'd be nice. Thanks."

"She's living with her mom if you want to go see her. She's usually home during the day," Michael said. He kept his eyes on the road but John could see him smiling.

"She probably doesn't want to see me," John said running a hand through his hair, "besides--apparently she's with this Jonas guy."

"He's not her husband, John," Michael said, "I don't think Jonas is nearly the competition you think he is."

"There is no competition," John said sadly, "Natalie and I were a long time ago. I don't think I'm in the race."

"Maybe," Michael said tauntingly, "but it couldn't do any harm to go see her. You two have a lot to talk about regardless."

John didn't say anything else on the subject. He was still angry at Michael for deliberately throwing him and Natalie together like that, but he couldn't deny feeling a certain giddiness at seeing her again. Nine years. He should be past that.

And yet, apparently he wasn't, he thought the next morning as he stood in front of Llanfair and rang the door bell.

To be continued.

**

* * *

Author's note:** Sorry about the fact that nine years have passed and the prologue only covered four. And only covered Natalie's half. I promise everything you need to know about the past nine years will be revealed… eventually.


	3. Chapter 2

John paused for a moment with his hand raised to the doorbell. Seeing her last night had only increased his desire to see her again, but how could he explain to her what he was doing there. Nine years separated them not to mention Cristian and all the lies and pain and whoever this Jonas was. And several states. They weren't really part of each other's lives anymore, so why was he still so drawn to her.

He pushed the bell and could hear it ring inside. Too late now. No chance of getting to his car and out of the drive before someone saw him. The door opened and two startling blue eyes stared into him.

He would have estimated the boy to be nine or ten years old, but that was impossible because he'd been on the receiving end of that icy glare too many times not to recognize it. No doubt at all about who his mother was and nine years ago she hadn't had a child. John knew when he rang the doorbell he wasn't prepared for meeting with Natalie, but he was even less prepared for this. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment before John finally stammered, "Um… hi. I uh-"

Before he could get further he heard footsteps on the stairs and a voice calling, "Jonas? Who is it?"

The boy opened the door wider and stepped slightly to the side as Natalie reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into view. She was in the process of putting in an earring and wearing a dressy low cut black sweater with a pair of worn grey sweatpants. "John?" she said startled, but smiling, "Hi! I wasn't expecting you, come in."

Her son stepped out of the way to let him enter. "John, this is my son, Jonas." He nearly laughed out loud. So that was what Michael meant when he said Jonas wasn't competition. He made a mental note to punch Michael when he got a chance for deliberately misleading him… he suspected Michael thought this was amusing too. So Natalie had a son… a son who must have a father so clearly he had some competition somewhere.

"Jonas," she continued, "this is Mr. McBain. He's Dr. McBain's brother. Oh, I'm sorry," she said glancing back at John, "I guess you're Agent McBain again."

He smiled, "John's fine."

Jonas nodded solemnly, "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," John said.

"Jonas," Natalie said pointedly, "why don't you go finish up your homework now and then you won't have to worry about it for the rest of the weekend?"

"I finished it already," he said, "it was easy."

"Oh," she said, "well why don't you call Linda and see if she wants to play this afternoon? I can drop you off on my way to work." By way of explanation she looked at John and said, "Linda's Kevin and Kelly's little girl."

Jonas rolled his eyes and said, "Mom, if you're trying to get rid of me you could just say so."

Natalie smiled and replied, "Jonas, baby, I love you very much but, yes, I'm trying to get you out of the room so I can talk to Mr. McBain alone."

Jonas nodded and started up the stairs mumbling loudly, "Honesty is always the best policy."

Natalie led him into the living room shaking her head sheepishly. "Sometimes I think he's more mature than I am."

John smiled at her, "He's a cute kid." He wasn't just saying it; although he suspected Jonas was nearing the age where 'cute' ceased to be an adjective he appreciated. There was something dramatic about his appearance; he had his mother's porcelain complexion and blue eyes but brown hair that contrasted sharply with his fair skin and brought out his eyes. He'd probably be quite the lady killer when he got older.

"Cute is one word for him," Natalie said. She tugged at the sides of her sweats, "I apologize for my appearance. The great part about working at night is I get to sleep in and be home with Jonas during the day, but the bad part is it makes it very tempting to just bum around all morning."

He shook his head, "You look great. Not like I'm a fashion critic."

She gave him a glance up and down, "Still going with the basic black I see."

He shrugged. "Otherwise people say I wind up clashing."

She nodded and looked at him for a moment before unexpectedly throwing her arms around him. "It's so good to see you! I can't believe Michael didn't tell me you were coming!"

"Yeah," he said as they pulled back, "he thought it was real funny arranging that meeting last night. Sorry about him-"

"Oh don't apologize. I'm Rex's sister, remember?" she said with a wave of her hand. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great," he said.

"Okay," she said, "One second." She disappeared towards the kitchen leaving him alone. He paced uneasily, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He hadn't known what to expect from this morning, but it definitely wasn't this. He really hadn't dared hope for such a warm reception. It hadn't even occurred to him that she could be a mother by now. Evidently he'd missed a lot in nine years. His mind wandered to the thought of Jonas's father, who he was and where he was. Questions he had no right to ask.

"Black and boring," Natalie said cheerfully as she returned with two coffee mugs and handed one to him, "hope you haven't changed the way you take your coffee."

"I think that's pretty much a universal constant," he said as she motioned for him to sit down.

"So what brings you here?" she asked curling up across from him on the couch.

"Oh, you know," he said raising the mug to his lips, "I just wanted a chance to talk to you… catch up."

"Yeah?" she said sounding almost eager.

"Yeah," he said wishing he could sound as relaxed about this as she did. "So… how long have you owned Rodi's?"

"Just over four years now," she said taking a sip of her coffee, "not long after I got back to town. I was talking with Mac one day and he said something about wanting to retire and move to Florida. And I needed a job and I was worried, you know, that if some stranger bought it they might… change it."

"I'm glad you haven't," he said.

"Well it's Rodi's!" she said. "I couldn't!" Her exclamation might have sounded over the top to someone else, but they both understood the significance that place had for them and others in town. "So yeah, I made Mac an offer, he accepted, and now I own a restaurant. I actually love it, and like I said, the schedule's perfect for me with Jonas because Mom's home with him in the evenings when I'm there."

He was tempted to ask if her son's father helped with childcare, but decided it was too early for him to ask those kinds of questions.

"I guess I could be a stay at home mom," she continued, "but it's really important for me that Jonas understand the concept of working for a living. Don't want him turning out some trust fund brat. Last thing our family needs is another Duke, I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my nephew but every other week he's in the tabloids with a different bimbo and-" She cut herself off and smiled, "I'm rambling."

"No," he assured her.

"You're sweet, but I am," she said, "so what about you? How's the DEA? Or can you talk about it?"

"I can," he said, "but it's actually very boring for the most part. A lot of paperwork."

"And before New Orleans you were in South America?" she asked. It was somewhat disconcerting how much she seemed to know about him.

He nodded. "Yeah. Peru… Colombia… mostly. It was interesting. Amazing in some ways, depressing in others. Makes you realize how good we have it here, you know. Work was a little more exciting, but I never quite got the hang of the language. I was okay until I had to do something like buy groceries or give a cab driver directions."

Natalie giggled, "I bet you were entertaining."

"Probably," he said with a wry smile, "And everybody there wants to talk to you about everything. I mean cab drivers, bank tellers, the guy behind you at the coffee shop, they all want your whole life story."

"Sounds like your personal version of Hell," she said with a smile. It wasn't quite the smile he remembered, the one that lit up the room, but it was still good to see her smile again.

"Well then they sent me to New Mexico for a while, which was awful. You know the sun shines there like constantly."

"Oooh," she said sympathetically, "must have made the brooding difficult."

"It did," he said with mock indignance. "And now New Orleans… It's okay, I guess."

"You ever miss this place?" she asked softly.

His eyes met hers. Not nearly as much as he'd missed her. "Yeah," he said, "parts of it." She held his gaze steady for a moment before looking down into her mug. He couldn't be sure, but he thought she'd caught his meaning.

"What made you decide to move back?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I think I was just ready to create a home for me and Jonas and no other place seemed quite right. And now that Jess is in California I wanted someone close to Mom, in case she got sick again."

She'd said her and Jonas. No reference to anyone else. He wanted to ask so badly, but he knew he had no right to. Instead he asked, "So where were you when you were gone? You said you spent some time in New Orleans?"

"I spent some time in a lot of places. I was around. Traveling most of the time—couple months here, couple months there. I got to see a lot of places. It really helped me clear my head after everything that happened." She said the last part very quickly. It was the first reference either of them had made to why they'd both left town and from her tone she didn't want to expand on the subject. "It helped me figure out what I want out of life," she added, "but Jonas was getting older and he needed more stability. And I was ready to stop traveling."

"Jonas seems like a great kid," he said.

"Best thing that ever happened to me," she said.

"I'm sure you're a great mother," he added.

She smiled in response. Then after a moment she closed her eyes and said, "Go ahead and ask John. I know you want to. Everyone else has."

He was startled by her bluntness and not sure he was ready for the answer but now that she'd made the invitation he was obligated. "Jonas's father-?"

"Is not part of our lives anymore," she said softly but firmly.

John gave her a questioning look, not wanting to push her, but eager to hear the rest of the story if she wanted to share. She kept her gaze focused in her coffee as she talked. "It was one of those doomed relationships from the start," she said, "we were both rebounding and there was a lot going on… The whole thing got pretty toxic. We were long over before Jonas even got here."

She bit her lip. His arms yearned to reach out for her, she sounded so resigned to what she was saying and yet he could tell that this guy had hurt her. Anger surged inside him both towards the guy and towards himself. Judging by Jonas's age he was very likely the guy she'd been rebounding from. He'd been at least part of the reason she'd gotten involved with the jerk. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

She smiled and it only looked half forced. "I'm not. I mean, I made some mistakes, but if I hadn't I wouldn't have Jonas. And… if it's okay with you I'd really rather not discuss this anymore." There was something very practiced about her tone; obviously she'd had this conversation before. It wasn't a tone he was used to hearing from Natalie, but he supposed it was only natural she would have changed. Older and wiser? Maybe. It was the tone of a woman who had set boundaries and wasn't going to let them be crossed.

"Of course," he said quickly.

"So how about you?" she asked, "Fair is fair, if we're done beating around the bush, how's your love life?"

"Nonexistent," he said.

"What?" she asked the smile returning to her face, "has John McBain become a monk?"

"Nope," he shook his head, "just old and busy."

She grinned, "Well being busy never stopped you before and I'm sure you have some life left in you somewhere."

Something in that grin perplexed him; if he were an optimist it would have almost seemed like she was flirting with him, but things could not be going that well. He knew better. Before he could decipher it she looked at her watch and said, "I hate to kick you out, but I have to get ready for work."

"Of course," he said standing up.

"But hopefully I'll get to see you again before you go back," she said walking with him towards the door.

"Yeah, definitely," he said trying to formulate a plan to make this happen.

He was already starting to process the information he'd gleaned from their conversation as he walked to his car, but was interrupted by Natalie calling his name. He turned back to see her leaning out the front door. "I really missed you!" she called.

"Yeah," he called back, "Me too!"

* * *

"So I met Jonas today," he said pointedly as he slid into the booth across from Michael that night at the diner. 

"Oh yeah?" Michael said with a grin, "cute kid isn't he?"

"You think you're real funny don't you Mikey?" John said leaning forward, "Did you invite me up here just to play games?"

"No," Michael said shaking his head, "for some strange reason I actually wanted to see my big brother. That and I thought it might be good for you."

"Ah," John said, "so you're messing with my head for my own good."

Michael grinned at him again, "Tough love, Johnny. Tough love."

"Don't listen to him," a groggy looking young woman said as she walked up and seized Michael's coffee cup, "he uses that line on everyone."

"Hey!" Michael objected as she drained the cup.

"Your fault," she said plunking it back down on the table, "You're the reason I'm so tired."

John nearly choked on his own coffee, taking the girl's remark suggestively until Michael said, "I didn't cause that four car pile up."

"Whatever," she said sullenly.

"John, you remember Starr Manning," Michael said motioning to the girl. John nodded realizing why the girl seemed familiar. "She's interning at the hospital right now."

"Nice to see you again, Starr," John said.

She looked at him suspiciously, "You're not in town to arrest anyone I'm related to, are you?"

"No," he smiled.

"Then it's nice to see you too," she said as she walked away.

When she was safely out of earshot Michael turned to John and asked, "So how'd things go with Natalie?"

"Good," John said, "I mean we didn't get to talk too long, but… it was weird, she seemed happy to see me. Didn't seem angry or anything."

"You're acting like that's a bad thing," Michael said raising an eyebrow.

"Not a bad thing," John said, "Just… last time I saw her she couldn't even look me in the eye. All of a sudden it's like nothing happened."

"Nine years is a long time to get over something," Michael pointed out.

"Has she said anything to you?" John asked.

"Uh uh. No!" Michael said holding up his hands.

"What?"

"I am _not_ getting in the middle of you two," he said.

"You already have. I'm assuming you're the one who's been feeding her information on me," John said, "'cause she seemed to know quite a bit."

"I told her where you were," Michael insisted, "that's it. And if you'd asked I would have told you where she was. But that's it, I'm not-"

"John!" Bo Buchanan said walking up and clapping him on the shoulder. "I didn't know you were coming into town."

John gave Michael a meaningful look to let him know that their conversation wasn't over before turning to Bo, "Yeah, apparently my brother forgot to tell anybody."

* * *

Sometime around midnight John made his way to the roof of the Angel Square hotel. The rest of the time at the diner had been spent catching up with a variety of people and he never got the chance to prod Michael for more information on Natalie, but by the end of the evening he needed some quiet alone time. As wonderful as it was to see old friends he'd felt a bit too crowded and he needed to think. 

Talking with Natalie hadn't given him any closure; it had only made it clearer how much his feelings about her were still unresolved. He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down on Angel Square. He smiled. Of all the places in this town with all the emotional resonance they held this one was the sweetest.

Suddenly, he became aware that he was not alone. Someone had been up here already and was leaning against the brick wall that surrounded the stairwell.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," Natalie said stepping forward as he turned to face her. "You want a beer?"

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's note: ** So I don't write smut. Not 'cause I object to it I just don't do it well (I'm not fishing for compliments, I'm just stating a fact). Unfortunately I actually felt it was necessary in this story, so it's at the end of the chapter (if you don't want to read it don't scroll past the line towards the end). I'm not going to call this my first attempt at smut, but it's the first I've ever let anyone read.

* * *

He had to take a moment to make sure she was really there; so many times his mind had played tricks on him. Once on a crowded street in Bogotá he'd seen a red pony tail in front of him and taken off after it, certain it was her. A block later he'd grabbed the shoulder of a very startled Australian backpacker. But as he blinked the woman before him didn't change—it was definitely Natalie. She was wearing the same black sweater from earlier with a slightly flared printed skirt. He wondered for a moment at her lack of jacket but reminded himself that for the northeast it really wasn't that cold. 

She held out a bottle of beer which he took from her before finally recovering his voice. "You were waiting for me?"

She smiled, "I don't know how, but I knew you'd be here. I guess if you hadn't come I would have gone downstairs eventually and knocked on your door, but-"

"Turns out you don't have to," he finished for her. "Guess you still know me pretty well."

"Not that well," she said taking a sip of her own beer, "the last two times I've seen you caught me totally of guard."

"Well the first time was all Michael," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she said walking to the edge to look over, "but earlier today…I didn't expect you to come of your own volition. You used to have to be cornered to talk."

"Am I cornered now?" he asked playfully.

"No," she said turning to him, "but I'm a little more prepared than earlier."

"Prepared for what exactly?"

She took a deep breath, "We have a lot more to talk about than where we've both been living over the last nine years."

He nodded. "The things that happened before."

"Why we left," she added.

"I left because there was nothing to stay here for," he said, "and I'd messed things up so badly I knew there was no way to fix them and I didn't know any other way to start over."

"What about Michael?" she asked, "you didn't miss living near him?"

"Near _him_?" he asked sarcastically then softening said, "yeah… but we kept in touch."

"I know about your mom from Michael," she said softly, "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I almost went to the funeral, but I figured you'd have enough to deal with, you didn't need to add our drama to it."

"She really liked you," he said wistfully, "the day she died she was talking about you."

"Really?" Natalie asked. She took half a step forward and an expression he couldn't read crossed her face for a moment.

"Yeah," he said, "she told me I should find you."

"But you didn't," she pointed out.

He took a swallow of his beer and looked at her; he was surprised to hear how unhappy she seemed about that fact. "I gotta tell you it never occurred to me you'd want to see me. The last time I saw you, I got the impression you never wanted to see me again."

"Nine years ago I thought that was true," she said. "Funny, because Cristian took it the other way. I guess he thought I was leaving to see if he'd follow."

"Cristian tracked you down?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, leaning back against the ledge that outlined the roof; he could tell there were memories replaying her mind and he didn't want to intrude on them anymore than she allowed. "Couple months after I left," she said. "Stuck around for a while where I was… I guess he thought we just needed a change of scenery."

"Scenery wasn't the problem, was it?" he asked.

She shook her head, "Took him a while, but he finally got it. He's in New York now apparently. Married. Still painting. I'm happy for him." There was a hint of regret to her tone, but he suspected that wasn't for the Cristian Vega that had finally left for New York but for the Cristian Vega who had once fulfilled all of her girlhood fantasies. "But Cristian isn't really what we need to talk about either," she said casting him a sideways glance.

He walked closer to her and leaned against the ledge next to her. "I'm sorry, Natalie," he said, "I have never stopped regretting what I did-"

"You apologized enough back then," she said, "it's really not a matter of saying you're sorry."

"I don't know what else to say," he said softly.

She shook her head, "No, I didn't mean- Look John, driving cross country alone… it really gave me a lot of time. And I went over it and I analyzed it and eventually I understood why you did it."

"You did?" he asked, wondering how she could when he wasn't sure he did himself.

"I did," she said, "And I don't like it and I still think you were wrong, but I understand. You felt responsible for what happened to Cristian and you felt like you couldn't deny him that request. And after my behavior after I lost him the first time and with Paul Cramer, you had some reasonable grounds to question my emotional stability."

"Natalie I-"

"John," she said turning to face him fully, "I have something I have to say and if you interrupt me I'm probably going to lose my nerve."

He nodded to indicate that she could go on.

"Like I said earlier today being on the road gave me the time and space to work through all the hurt and the anger and work past it. And I also told you it gave me time to figure out what I wanted out of life, but I didn't tell you what it was. Besides creating a stable and happy home for Jonas there was only one thing I really wanted. And it was you, John."

He stared at her for a moment, not really able to believe what she'd just said. She stared back for a moment before closing her eyes and saying, "You can talk now."

"Natalie," he said surprised to find himself a little breathless. He reached out and lifted her chin gently with one finger so that her eyes would meet his. "I left town because there were a lot of things I needed to get away from. And I'll be honest you were one of them, but I never quite managed. I never got away from you. I kept wondering about you, dreaming about you, thinking about what it would be like to see you again. I was in the jungle and I smelled something that reminded me of your perfume and I looked around, half expecting you to be there. You were always right there in my mind. If I had even dared to hope that you could have forgiven me and I had known you were here, I swear to you I would never have stayed away so long."

She smiled up at him, her eyes watering slightly with tears; he could feel his own misting slightly. Then she circled one arm around his neck and kissed him.

She surprised him with the force of her kiss; tangling her hands in his hair, leaning all of her weight into him she pushed him back against the wall that enclosed the top of the stairway. She dragged one hand down his neck and onto his chest as she broke the kiss enough to meet his eyes with her own. That look and the way her fingers splayed on his chest, teasing his skin through his shirt, made it clear enough what she intended to happen. Taking his lack of protest as consent she began kissing down his neck as she started to slowly undo his shirt buttons.

Recovering his breath finally and catching her hands in his own he managed to murmur, "Natalie. Natalie, what are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" she repeated leaning in so that her breasts brushed up against him.

Okay, dumb question. The answer was obvious enough. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" he tried instead.

"Well I know it's what I want," she said and then pressing harder against him she added, "and it sure seems to be what you want."

He knew with her in such proximity there was no point in pretending he didn't want her. His body was sure enough of that, and pressed up against him there was no way she couldn't feel it. But his head seemed to think this might not be the time and place for it. "I don't- I don't have protection," he fumbled searching for an excuse.

She smiled, "Not a problem." She released him long enough to take a few steps to where she'd dropped her purse. Unzipping it and reaching in, she pulled out a condom, holding it like a prize. "I came prepared," she said smugly.

He blinked in surprise. "You planned this?"

She shrugged. "I'm a single mom, John. I _have_ to plan this kind of thing or it would never happen."

He took a few steps away. He wasn't turned off, but this wasn't like the Natalie he remembered. She'd never been afraid to go after what she wanted, but he couldn't recall ever seeing her quite so direct.

"What's wrong?" she groaned.

"Nothing," he said furrowing his eyebrows, "I just… I'm not sure how I feel about being a booty call."

"Of course," she asked sounding more than a little bitter, "Because it's okay for men to do this kind of thing but not for women. Why don't I think you'd feel so conflicted if our positions were reversed?"

"It was never like that with you, Natalie," he said looking at her intensely, "you should know that."

She smiled and looked down. "I know. It's not really like that now either. _You _should know that."

He took a step towards her, closing the space between them. He wanted her so badly but he didn't want to hurt her again. "I just don't want either of us to wind up regretting anything that happens tonight."

"The only thing I regret," she said draping her arms around his neck, "Is the nine years of not being able to do this." She kissed him again; this kiss was gentler than the last, more tender, but just as insistent.

As her hands slid over the part of his chest she had already exposed he broke this kiss again and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this _here_?"

"It's our spot," she said nuzzling his neck.

"It's also kinda cold out tonight."

She looked up at him and smirked. "You've been down south way too long if _this_ is too cold for you, John." Grinding her body against his she murmured in his ear, "If you give me a chance I bet I can warm you up."

"I have no doubt about that," he said softly in her ear, running his hands over the outline of her body, "but I also have a room downstairs where we might be a bit more comfortable."

She gave him a playful glare and held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, McBain. You win. If you need pillows and climate control we can go downstairs. Just remember you owe me."

"Let me know how to make it up to you," he said pulling her towards the stairs.

"Oh, I will," she promised.

* * *

"Anything else we can do to make you more comfortable Agent McBain?" she asked playfully tossing her purse on a chair as he shut the door behind them. 

Shrugging free of his coat he turned to her with a grin. "We could lose this," he said as he reached for the hem of her sweater, pulling it quickly over her head as each of them sought desperately for the other's flesh with their lips.

"Careful with that," she murmured into his neck, "it's cashmere."

"I'll buy you a new one," he said backing her towards the wall and fumbling for the clasp of her bra and removing it as her fingers pulled at the remaining buttons on his shirt. Pinning her shoulders against the wall he stopped for a moment and looked at her. At the body he'd known so well for a short time many years ago. There were small changes here and there, but she was the same sexy Natalie. For a moment they're eyes locked; there was something dark, almost primal in her eyes. A need he suspected was reflected in his own but which surprised him for some reason coming from her.

Slowly, almost reverently, he lowered his head to one of her breasts. He felt her gasp as he let his tongue whirl around the hardened nipple, felt her breath quicken as he gently flicked it back and forth. As he gently closed his mouth around it she arched her body impatiently against his, her hands making fists in his hair. He smiled up at her as he moved over to the other breast. He could tell that his leisurely pace was driving her crazy, and he relished in his ability to provoke this impatience in her.

She found the opportunity to escape his grasp and regain control of the situation when they were both startled by something softly clattering against the carpet. Natalie laughed in the back of her throat as she dropped to the floor to recover the condom which she had still held in her hand. "We better take care of this before it gets forgotten altogether," she said sliding to her knees in front of him.

He stepped obediently out of his shoes as she unfastened his belt and then his pants. "Besides," she said, grinning mischievously up at him, "it's my turn." With one quick motion she yanked down his pants and boxers. Reaching up with one hand she stroked him slowly, gently before leaning forward to taste him with her tongue. Mimicking the slowness with which he'd teased her she finally took him into her mouth.

"Natalie," he groaned after a moment.

"Mm hm?" she said almost primly sitting back on her heels.

"I think you'd better-"

"Uh huh," she said, knowing exactly what he meant. She opened the condom and sheathed him, kissing her way up his stomach as she slowly stood up. He stepped quickly out of his pants as he reached under her skirt to slide off her panties, relieved to discover that her stockings only reached to her thighs.

Kissing him fiercely again she jumped and wrapped both legs around his waist, her skirt coiling up around her waist. Bracing her against the wall again he thrust into as her hands tangled in his hair and her tongue seemed to reach deep inside him. For a moment he held her there, savoring the sensation of her bare skin against his, her breath pouring over his face, her muscles tightening around him. Then unable to hold back any longer he thrust into her again and again until their bodies shuddered in unison against each other and they collapsed together in the floor, drunk with the pleasure of each other.

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 4

Natalie rolled over and propped herself up on John's bare chest with her elbows. "Thank you," she said smiling down at him. 

They'd made their way to the bed once they'd recovered enough strength and made love again, more slowly this time. Languidly. Refamiliarizing themselves with each others' bodies. When exhaustion finally overcame them they simply held each other, not quite sleeping, each afraid they'd wake to discover the night had been yet another fantasy.

John smiled back at her fingering her hair tenderly. "What are you thanking me for?"

"Well because either there's something wrong with my memory," she said pausing mid-sentence to kiss him lightly on the mouth, "or that was even more incredible than before."

"Yeah?" he asked kissing her back, a little more deeply, letting a hand wander over her bare back. He'd been surviving on fantasies for so long it was hard to believe she was really here. Just a few hours earlier he wouldn't have believed it possible. His mind still couldn't quite process that it had really happened so his hands needed to keep touching her, to feel the warmth of her skin, to assure himself that she was real. But he knew none of his fantasies had ever been that good.

"Mm hmm," she said dipping her head down to nuzzle his neck, "so thank you for letting it happen. Thank you for listening last night and just… being amazing."

"Any time," he breathed into her hair, rolling her over, and pulling gently on her thigh to bring her closer.

"I can't," she moaned softly in his ear but allowed his mouth to wander over the tender skin at the base of her throat a moment longer. Finally she pushed lightly at his chest and said, "No, I'm sorry, I have to go."

He shifted his weight off of her and released his hold but continued to let one hand glide over her body. "Why?"

"It's morning," she said catching his hand and bringing it to her lips.

"The sun's not up yet," he pointed out kissing her again.

"But it will be soon," she said finally convincing herself to sit up. "And if I don't get out of here by then we're going to have to answer a whole bunch of questions. Like why you can never get these off without ripping them," she said picking up a torn black thigh high.

"Well someone was a little impatient last night," he said sitting up himself as Natalie began collecting her clothes.

"I waited nine years," she said stepping into her skirt, "I don't think you can call me impatient."

"Sweater okay?" he asked playfully as she slipped it over her head.

"A little stretched out on the sides," she said running her fingers through her hair to get rid of some of the tangles, "but it was worth it." Then she walked back towards the bed and leaned forward, the low neck of her sweater giving him quite an alluring view, "Happy Thanksgiving by the way," she said kissing him.

It took all of his self-restraint not to pull her back down on the bed with him, "I guess I do have something to be thankful for."

"Yeah," she said straightening, "me too. Listen, I'm gonna be tied up all day with family stuff and I know you're having dinner with Michael and Marcie, but maybe later tonight?"

He nodded, "I'd like to see you." As she sat on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes he said, "Look about everything we said last night-"

"Seriously John," she said cutting him off, "I have to go-"

"I just need to know where this puts us," he pressed.

Ignoring his statement she continued, "I mean, you think it's bad having your mother catch you sneaking back in in the morning, but it's _so_ much worse being caught by your child."

"That happen to you a lot?" he asked before he could remind himself that her personal life over the past years wasn't his business.

She stopped and looked at him. "No," she said softly.

He reached for her hand and pulled her closer to him. "There's something I left out last night," he said. He saw her take a deep breath, realized she was steeling herself for bad news. He pulled her down into his lap so he could look more easily into her eyes. "I never stopped loving you," he said.

Her jaw quivered and she turned her eyes away. "John I-"

"And I guess that statement would make a whole lot more sense if I had told you I loved you back then, and I'm sorry I didn't," he continued brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But you knew. Please tell me you did."

Her eyes fluttered back to his. "Sometimes," she said, "sometimes I thought I was just fooling myself."

"You weren't," he said stroking her hair, "and seeing you… being with you… it's just brought it all back and-"

"I just don't know if that really means anything," she said suddenly. "Things aren't like they were back then. They're a lot more complicated. I'm not sure what one 'I love you' is up against nine years and half the country."

"Well I know it's not gonna be easy but-"

She brought a hand to his lips to stop him from speaking, "John, I can't just think with my heart anymore, okay?"

"Because of Jonas?"

"Because of a lot of things," she said sadly but firmly, "but yeah, because of Jonas. Because it's not just me I'm making these decisions for. And because there are things you don't know."

"Tell me," he said.

She shook her head, "I can't. I have to go." She stood up again and looked around the room, "where's my purse?"

"Natalie," he pleaded, "there's nothing you could tell me that's gonna change the way I feel about you."

Her head snapped back to his. For the first time he noticed a trace of fear in her eyes. "Don't promise that. We both know how much what you don't know can hurt."

He climbed out of bed and stepped into his boxers before crossing to the chair and handing Natalie her purse. "Thank you," she mumbled taking it.

He put a hand on each of her shoulders, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to push."

"And I didn't mean to snap," she said shaking her head, "I just- I can't really talk about this now. I need to get back and I need coffee in my system." She gave him a weak smile.

"It's okay," he said running one of his hands over her hair. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah," she said her smile broadening though he could see hints of tears in her eyes. She pulled his mouth down to hers and gave him a kiss with just as much intensity, but a slightly different character than their first kiss that night.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he said as they separated.

"Happy Thanksgiving," she echoed as she slipped out the door.

She leaned back against the door as she closed it and took a deep breath. She'd thought she could control the situation, but she should have known she couldn't control John any more than she could control herself around him. Just like him to make everything so difficult; nine years ago any information had to be pried out of him with a crowbar, now he'd totally turned around at the most inconvenient moment.

He sat staring at the door for a moment after she left, trying to wrap his brain around the last several hours. Not even in his fantasies had he dared to hope things would go so well. But had they really? He'd pressed Natalie to discuss where they stood and yet he didn't know what answer he would have given if she'd asked him the same question.

Not that she seemed likely to. As close as she wanted him physically she wanted to keep him at an emotional distance—not that he could blame her. But could he leave it at that? After all these years he'd finally told her he loved her and it hadn't escaped his attention that she hadn't said it back.

But she said she wanted him, and the emphasis she'd placed on that statement convinced him she had been talking about a lot more than one night of sex, no matter how amazing it was. He replayed the conversations they'd had over the past twenty four hours. That morning she'd seemed so open and warm if a bit superficial, on the roof top there had been an urgency in her words and a need to clear the air between them, so why did her attitude shift so dramatically towards avoidance in the morning? What was she hiding?

He scanned through each conversation in his head. Yesterday morning she'd firmly stopped the conversation when he brought up Jonas's father and this morning she'd started looking for her purse when the subject of Jonas came up. Was she specifically keeping him out of the part of her life connected with Jonas or was it some secret about Jonas she was avoiding? It was so disconcerting because for a moment on the roof he'd felt there was nothing closed between them; she hadn't marked any subject off limits. She'd changed the subject quickly after revealing that Cristian had followed her, but it was hardly surprising that she wouldn't want to discuss Cris with him.

He sighed and flopped back on the bed; he would see her again that night, and maybe he'd be able to break through a few of those walls she'd constructed.

* * *

His mind had started playing tricks on him again, he thought as he pulled into the parking lot of Michael's apartment building. He was back to seeing her in places where she wasn't. The driver of the green Honda that had pulled out in front of him, for example… for a moment he could have sworn it was her. 

He was surprised to find Michael still in the process of buttoning his shirt as he answered the door. "Where's Marcie?" he asked.

"In a cab on the way to the Palace," Michael answered fumbling with a tie, "her flight got delayed so she said she'd meet us there."

"Well we'd better get there then," John said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," Michael said grabbing his jacket as he stepped into his shoes, "I just got held up by a call from the hospital. You talked to Natalie since yesterday morning?"

"Yeah," John said trying to hide a smile as they stepped out the door.

"And?" Michael pressed, "How'd it go?"

"Good," John said not looking at his brother as they headed towards the car.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning none of your business," John said opening the car door.

"That good, huh?" Michael said with a smile that indicated he knew just what John meant.

* * *

The Palace had redone the floors, John noticed as they walked into the dining room, and he didn't much care for the pale green tile. That was all he had time to process before he was grabbed from behind and a heavily accented voice squealed, "Johnny Mc-B! I heard you were back in town!" 

"Hello Roxy," he said with an indulgent smile as she released him.

"Hey Mikey," she said circling around to give Michael an accusing glare, "what's the deal sneaking him into town without letting anyone know?"

"It wasn't my intention, Roxy," Michael said. John gave him a sideways glance; they both knew perfectly well that Michael had specific reasons for keeping his visit quiet.

"Well I was just talking to your beautiful wife over there," she said motioning towards Marcie who was sitting alone a short distance away. She gave them an amused wave. "I thought for a second you were standing her up and I was gonna invite her to eat with us, but she said the two of you were on your way so I think we should just push the tables together and have ourselves a little fivesome, what d'you think?"

"I don't think this is the kind of place where you can do that," Rex said approaching them.

"Of course it is," Roxy said with a flip of her hair, "I'll just go tell the waiters." She started to walk away but paused to slap Rex on the arm, "Where's your mannerisms anyway? Say 'Hello' to Johnny, he ain't been in town for a while."

Rex extended a hand towards John which John shook firmly. "McBain," Rex said. His tone was polite but cold. This could make for an interesting dinner. Michael walked over to greet Marcie leaving John and Rex to stare awkwardly at each other for a moment before Roxy returned with the news that the staff had arranged for them to sit together.

"So does Nattie know you're back?" Roxy asked after they'd all settled around the table.

"She knows," Rex said giving John a meaningful look. He realized immediately that Rex knew everything that had transpired between them. Well that wasn't going to do anything to ease the tension between them.

"Bet she was excited to see ya!" Roxy said elbowing him suggestively.

"Um… John, did you know Roxy owns a second salon now?" Marcie jumped in changing the subject to most everyone's relief.

"It's not just a salon," Roxy said, "it's a full service spa too." She ruffled John's hair all of a sudden, "You should come by—I've been dying to get my hands on this hair for years."

"I'll think about it," John smiled.

"But not tomorrow," she continued, "day after Thanksgiving the kids and grandkids come help me decorate the hotel. It's a tradition. Hey, you wanna see pictures of my little Mohicans? They're the cutest kids in the world!"

"Sure," he said as Roxy was already pulling out a packet of pictures.

The first picture looked like a school photo of a girl about six or seven with curly blond hair and a sly smile. "This is Rex's baby girl Sophie," Roxy explained.

John looked up and met Rex's eyes. "She's cute," he said truthfully.

"Damn straight she is," he replied poking at his potatoes.

"She's a little con artist too," Michael chimed in, "I've seen her in action. It must run in the family."

"She with her mother?" Marcie asked Rex.

Rex nodded. "Yeah, but I get her for Christmas, so, you know, it's okay." No one elaborated on who her mother was or what the situation between her and Rex was, but John thought it better not to ask.

Roxy flipped to the next picture; it was Sophie and Jonas sitting on a couch that John recognized as residing in the living room at Llanfair. "And this is her with her cousin Jonas-" Roxy stopped and looked around nervously. "Was I supposed to talk about him? Does Johnny know that Nat's got a kid?"

"I met him yesterday," John assured her.

Roxy sighed with relief as she flipped to the next photo, "Oh good. I mean, it's not like it's this big secret, I just- y'know some guys get scared off by that kinda thing."

"He seems like a good kid," he said.

"Oh he is," she said, "a little too good I think sometimes, but Nattie just lives for that little boy."

John thought for a moment; he knew what he was about to ask could make the rest of the meal very uncomfortable, but he also realized he'd probably never be as likely to get an honest answer. He decided not to let the opportunity pass. "She ever talk about his father?"

Everyone at the table froze for a moment and he knew he'd entered forbidden territory. Rex finally spoke, "No." When no one else regained their voices he added, "And I'm not saying he doesn't come up in conversation, I'm saying she _doesn't talk_ about him. So don't bug her about it."

"I got a theory about him," Roxy volunteered, "you wanna hear it?"

"He doesn't," Rex said and turning to John he said, "You don't."

Roxy ignored him. "I don't think Nattie knows _who_ that kid's father is."

"What?" Michael asked as Rex rolled his eyes. Clearly Rex had heard this before. John wasn't quite sure whether to be shocked by what Roxy was implying about Natalie's character or to brush it aside.

"I doubt that," Marcie scoffed.

Roxy waved both her hands to stop the others from talking. "Don't think I'm knockin' on the girl, I'm not sayin' what you're hearin'. I don't think she knows who his father is 'cause I don't think she knows who his mother is. I don't think he's her kid. I think he's adopted just like Nattie was."

"Roxy," Rex said pointedly, "Natalie wasn't adopted, she was abducted."

She furrowed her brow, "What's the difference on that again?"

"I don't know, Roxy," Marcie said shaking her head, "Jonas looks an awful lot like Natalie."

"Nah," Roxy said, "he's got her facial expressions, so it's easy to think that, but Rex and Nattie do the same thing and they don't share any generic material."

"Genetic, Roxy," Rex said wearily.

"Whatever," Roxy said rolling her eyes, "Okay, I got another theory-"

"Let's hear it," Michael said smiling, clearly amused by the situation. Rex shot him a 'don't encourage her' look.

Sounding triumphant, as though she knew this theory would convince everyone she said, "The kids secretly like fifteen years old and she had him before she ever came to Llanview."

Everyone stopped and looked at her, Michael laughed out loud. "What?" she protested, "you gotta admit, the kid's tall."

"Yeah but," Marcie giggled, "where was she hiding him all that time?"

"I dunno," Roxy said defensively elbowing Rex, "You're the detective. With a friend, maybe, or his father."

"Roxy," Rex pointed out, "you were around her before she came to Llanview."

"Yeah," she admitted, "but like I would have noticed if she was knocked up. You have no idea how drunk I was most of the time."

"Oh I have a pretty good idea," he said moving her wine glass further away from her.

"Well I'd like to hear any other theories," she said folding her arms on her chest.

Steeling himself for the negative reaction his suggestion would bring John said softly, "She said she met back up with Cristian when she was on the road—any chance Jonas could be his?"

He kept his eyes trained on his plate, not wanting to see the other's faces but he could feel the sudden awkwardness immediately. Finally Michael said, "Well… his eyes are blue."

"So?" he asked.

"Well Cristian's eyes are brown. Carlotta's eyes are brown. I don't know what color her husband's eyes were, but even if they were blue there's only about a twenty-five percent chance Cris and Natalie could have a blue-eyed child. I mean it's possible-"

"You know what," Rex said suddenly and sharply, "it's really none of our business. And if any of you want to know about Natalie's kid you should be talking to Natalie."

Marcie cleared her throat as she changed the subject. "You know what, John? You should keep Michael's car the rest of the time you're here. I don't have to work again until Monday and Michael and I can share a car."

"Are you sure?" John asked, grateful to her both for the offer and for relieving the tension he'd created.

"Yeah," Michael assured him.

The rest of the meal was uneventful and the earlier tension more or less forgotten. As they were leaving Rex grabbed John by the shoulder and pulled him back. "So I talked to her this morning," he said. John nodded cautiously. "I know everything. And to tell you the truth I'm not real happy about it. I'd tell you to stay away from her, but she's a big girl and she'd kick my ass if I did. But be careful with her, McBain."

"I will," he promised.

"She's been through more than you'll ever understand," Rex said with a final warning look as he walked away.

* * *

John returned to his hotel room and kicked off his shoes. She'd said she would see him, but they hadn't made any specific plans. He had no way of contacting her and no idea when or if she'd show up. He fell backwards onto the bed. He was tired; he hadn't slept much the night before. 

He had started to doze off when he heard a tentative knock at his door. He opened the door to see Natalie holding a bottle of wine and a foil wrapped package. "I brought cookies," she said sounding somewhat self-conscious, "and wine. Can I come in?"

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's note: **Another chapter with a smut warning. If you'd like to avoid the smut it's enclosed in the bracketed sections.

* * *

John raised an eyebrow as he stepped to the side to let her in. "You baked me cookies?" 

She walked past him and set the foil covered plate and the wine bottle on the coffee table. "Well the kids did most of the baking," she said smiling shyly, "it's this bizarre family tradition we have now where we all spend Thanksgiving at my mom's place baking the first round of Christmas cookies. And I mean, we're talking baking on a truly massive scale because Jess flew in with her girls and then there's Jonas and Linda and all of us adults. I think we went through like six pounds of butter. It's insane. So anyway we had plenty to spare." She gestured towards the plate she'd brought.

"That's kinda sweet though," he said, shutting the door behind her.

"Well the weird part is who started it," she said bending over to unwrap the plate. "It was Kevin."

"Kevin bakes?" he asked trying to picture this in his mind.

"He does now," she said shaking her head in amusement. "I don't know how well you remember but he can be a little high strung sometimes and he has some problems with his blood pressure these days. Apparently about four years ago someone told him that baking was a good way to relax and he got all the kids caught up in it and… anyway it's fun."

"Sounds that way," he said smiling back at her and walking closer to her. He felt strangely awkward, not clear of where they stood, not sure whether kissing her hello would be appropriate although he certainly wanted to. "I uh… didn't pack my wine glasses," he said motioning towards the bottle.

"Well Roxy stocks the room with little plastic cups, right?" she asked, "If she didn't I can go get some from the supply closet downstairs. Or we can just drink right from the bottle, I'm really not proud."

"I think there might actually be a couple of real glasses in the bathroom," he said going to check. When he returned after rinsing out the glasses she had turned down the lights in the room and was sitting on the couch struggling to open the bottle with a corkscrew from her keychain. She smiled up at him and blushed a little. If her intention was to seduce him it was strange she should seem so nervous considering how bold she'd been the night before.

"You want me to give that a try?" he asked reaching for the wine bottle.

She hesitated but handed it over. "I've gotten too used to the crank bottle opener we have at Rodi's," she said apologetically.

"It was nice of you to bring the wine," he said.

She shrugged, "Jess and Nash send me cases of the stuff. It's theirs, you know."

"Really?" he said taking a second look at the label.

"Yeah, and Mom doesn't drink and there's only so much I can drink on my own without feeling like a wino. So… this one's my favorite. It's a Viognier which is… well I have no idea what it is," she said, "but don't tell them I said that. But it's pretty good."

"I'm sure it is," he said pulling on the corkscrew. She was definitely nervous—she was rambling. "And the cookies-- I don't get homemade cookies very often."

"Well don't tell Jonas I brought you these because these are the ones he decided were too misshapen for public viewing. I had to promise they wouldn't leave the kitchen. He's very particular. Worries to no end that the girls are going to mess something up."

"So he's the only boy?" John asked pouring wine into the glasses.

"Joe has a little boy, Joey, who's five, but we don't see much of him because they're in London. And there's Duke, of course, but he's basically a different generation," she said mentally running the Buchanan family.

"Yeah, he has a son too now, right?" he said recalling something he'd read.

She smiled, "You've been reading the tabloids."

"Only in check out lines," he assured her. "Kinda catches you're attention when you see a name you know."

"Well the paternity case has not yet been decided," she said, "but yeah, the kid's probably his. But anyway, you don't really want to hear the full Buchanan family role call."

He handed her a glass and said, "You can talk about anything you want to talk about. I just like hearing the sound of your voice."

She blushed again and turned her attention to the glass in her hand. "Well should we toast?"

He raised his glass. "To the best Thanksgiving I've had in a long time."

She clinked her glass against his and raised an eyebrow over her glass as she took a sip of the wine. "Dinner at the Palace that good, huh?"

"It was good," he said, "but I was mostly referring to before that."

"Oh really?" she said with feigned innocence.

He nodded. "And then after that a beautiful woman showed up at my place with wine and cookies." He reached down and took a cookie from the plate.

"Beautiful?" she asked.

He reached out for her hand and kissed it. "Very. In fact," he said raising his glass again, "I'd like to toast to her."

"Okay," she said with an almost girlish giggle raising her glass.

"To the woman who intoxicates me more than this wine," he said touching his glass to hers.

"I have a toast too," she said as he took a sip.

"Okay," he said holding his glass up again.

"To Saint Anthony."

"Saint Anthony?"

"Saint Anthony," she repeated pulling a medallion from underneath her top.

He looked at her in surprise. "You know, for someone who isn't Catholic you know a lot about random saints."

"Someone gave this to me," she explained. "This random woman at street market in south Texas. Patron saint of lost things. And she gave it to me because she said she could tell I'd lost something. I've been wearing this ever since. And it took him a while, but he finally brought me back what I lost." Her eyes glistened as she said this, as though she were holding in tears.

He clinked his glass against hers, took a sip and then said, "You know, you never really lost me."

Her lower lip quivered and he could tell she was about to cry so he took her hand again and pulled her closer so that he could kiss her. She kissed him back, gently, almost tentatively, but she let slide his tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss. It was true, she made his head swim in a way no alcohol ever had.

She finally ended the kiss but didn't move back to her side of the couch. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her even closer so that she was nestled up against him. "The wine's good," he said after a moment. "The cookies too. Send my compliments to the chefs."

"I will," she said, "or you can tell them yourself tomorrow, they'll all be helping Roxy decorate."

"Yeah she said that," he said, "she's quite the doting grandmother."

"So you got to see all the pictures of Sophie, too?" she said.

"Yeah," he said, "so her mother…"

"Isn't anyone you know," Natalie supplied, "not anyone I knew, anyway. Hell, I don't think she was anyone Rex knew to be honest about it. Apparently he was in crisis about something or other and he got wasted and… few months later… only my brother."

"Sounds like the Rex I remember," he said.

"Yeah," she sighed, "he tries to be a good guy- he _is_ a good guy, you know, he just messes up. And when he messes up he usually does so on a massive scale. But I will say this for him, he's a great father."

"Well that's important," he said.

"It is," she agreed, "I'm proud of him." She reached for a cookie and took a bite of it; he felt her posture tighten slightly under his arm and realized she had something more serious to say. "So he called me after dinner," she said, "said you had some questions."

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"Any reason you decided to ask my drunken stepmother instead of me?" she asked.

He didn't say anything; they both knew the reason but he couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud.

"It was because you thought she was more likely to slip up and say something," she answered for him.

"That was part of it," he admitted.

"Well she would be," Natalie said turning her head to look at him, "which is why she doesn't know anything."

"I figured that out," he said. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand why you have questions," she said, her tone was a bit business-like, but at least it didn't sound angry, "I just- You've changed, John."

Had he? He hadn't been aware of changing, but it had been nine years; she had certainly changed. She continued, "You used to be so quiet and internalized. Now all of a sudden you're so open and you're kinda pushy and that used to be my job."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked.

"No," she said, "you just- you kinda threw me. I mean, what happened to you, John?"

He thought for a moment and then said quietly, "Her name was Vanessa."

He felt her stiffen immediately and smiled to feel her react this way at the mention of another woman even if her reaction was a bit misguided. "She was ten," he added holding back a laugh.

"Oh," she said relaxing somewhat, "picking them young these days are you, McBain?"

"Funny," he said kissing the side of her face. "No it was right after I started with the DEA—right after I got to Peru. One of the agents who'd been there for a while took me with her to meet with one of her informants. And so we're waiting at this café for this person to show up and this _tiny _little girl shows up and starts offering to shine my shoes. And I'm trying to lose the kid 'cause I think we're waiting for this guy to show up and all of a sudden this woman I'm with she just starts laughing and tells the kid to leave me alone and have a seat. The kid _was_ the informant."

"You guys use _kids_ as informants?" she asked. He could hear the protective maternal instinct rising into her voice coupled with that of a woman who knew too well how bad operations like this could go.

"We use whoever we can," he said knowing it sounded harsh, but all too accustomed to the reality. "But this kid was something else--I wish you could have met her. Father was disappeared when she was a baby, either by the police or by the army, no one really knows. Her mother was a maid who had to just leave the kids at home by themselves to go to work. And this kid this ten-year-old was the primary bread winner for the family shining shoes and selling chocolates to tourists."

"The poor thing," she said sympathetically.

"But that was just it—she didn't think so. She was all smiles and laughter and everything right there on the surface. Took everything in stride. She thought I was the funniest thing she'd ever seen because my Spanish was so bad. And it just… You know, I spent most of my life brooding, feeling sorry for myself and I didn't have half the reason she did. I kept trying to shut myself off and what good did it do me?"

"You were just trying to protect yourself," Natalie said taking a sip of her wine. He wondered from her tone if she was talking about him or about herself.

"Maybe," he said, "but it cost me a lot more than it helped."

"Where's Vanessa now?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, "she wasn't my informant so I had no further contact with her. But she just really stayed in my mind. 'Course it took me forever to figure out why or to learn anything from the experience, but yeah, I think that's what made me reexamine certain things."

She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "So I owe all of this to another woman, huh?"

"I guess so," he smiled back. Then sobering he added, "But Natalie, I want to be honest. There have been other women—none of them serious but-"

"I figured," she said, "it's not like I've taken an oath of celibacy either. Although, with my schedule, with Jonas, it's felt that way sometimes. Just as well, I never had much luck with men." She hugged her knees to her chest and shuddered; he tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it away. He looked at her for a moment, trying to decipher which ghost was haunting her.

"What did he do to you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Who?" she asked looking bewildered.

"Jonas's father."

That look of fear washed over her face briefly again but she shook her head and said, "No, not him. I gave as good as I got with that. Trust me."

She allowed herself to relax back against him and they sat together in silence for a moment before he hesitantly said, "You've changed too."

"I had to," she said simply.

"You went through a lot," he said, "and some of that was my fault."

She shook her head. "It wasn't that. Maybe a little bit, but mostly it was Jonas. When he came into my life I just realized that he had to take priority over everything else. And that meant that I had to be careful and I couldn't let my emotions drive me the way I used to. Like this morning when you told me you loved me-"

"Shh," he whispered in her ear, "we don't have to talk about that."

"Yes we do," she insisted. "As much as I'd like to avoid it… I've been avoiding things like that for a long time now. Thinking somehow I could get through this weekend without facing the fact that I still love you-"

"Natalie," he said stroking her hair, trying to sooth her as he felt her becoming more agitated.

"But like I said I can't live my life by the way I feel anymore," she said her voice cracking slightly, "and I keep thinking about it and I can't see how it's going to work."

"If this is about Jonas," he said rubbing her shoulder, "I'd love to get to know him better-"

"It's more about you living hundreds of miles away and the fact that it could be nine years before I see you again," she said.

"I don't think I _could_ go that long without seeing you again," he assured her.

"But you're still so far away—I just don't see how we can get around that," she said a tear rolling down her cheek.

He brushed it away with his thumb, "Well I figure if we can get through everything we have already, we should be able to work around that. My assignment in Louisiana is over in a year and after that maybe I can get something closer or-"

She turned and brought a hand to his lips. "We can't rush into anything—we're not going to come up with a solution tonight. We both have things to think about. And there are things you need to know."

He nodded, not saying anything, waiting for her to continue. She stared into his eyes for a long moment before saying, "I know you have questions, John. And I'll answer them. But not tonight."

"I can wait," he said.

"Can you?" she pressed, "Can you wait until I'm ready to tell you? Will you stop bugging everyone else for answers that they don't have anyway?"

"I'll wait for you," he said stroking her silky hair, "whenever you're ready."

Her eyes filled with tears again. "I don't deserve you."

He set his glass on the coffee table so he could have both hands free. Cupping her face in both hands he said, "No. You deserve better."

She shut both of her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks; he kissed each eyelid as though that would somehow magically stop the tears. She went nearly limp in his arms. He took the glass from her hand and set it beside his before it had a chance to slip to the floor and then he took her mouth with his own. Even as her body remained motionless he felt her lips respond to his, part eagerly to allow him to enter, her tongue tasting his.

Slowly as the kiss deepened he felt strength return to her arms—as if the kiss were refilling her body with life. Her arms slid up his to wrap around the back of his head. He let his own arms drop down her body to refasten around her waist giving him the leverage to pull her into his lap.

Smut warning>

She sat straddling him, kissing him more eagerly as his hands roamed up and down her body. They glided down her legs, pulling off her shoes then running back up her body to caress her breasts. Her lips left his as her head tilted back and she gasped feeling him squeeze them through her clothes. As his hand slid back down to the hem of her top she seemed to have the same idea and began to pull his shirt out of his pants. She stopped just long enough to lift her arms and let him raise her top over her head before setting to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Kissing her again while she blindly fumbled to open his shirt he slid his hand up her legs again, under her skirt, and up over the lacy tops of her stockings until he felt bare flesh. Cautiously he slid one hand under the elastic edge of her panties and raked one finger over her center, already moist with desire. She let out a plaintive whimper in response and yanked his shirt over his shoulders. As he shrugged it off she breathed in his ear, "So I guess we're done talking?"

"Unless you want to stop," he offered with a grin.

She pulled back enough that she could look him in the eyes, her forehead still touching his. "Don't you dare," she growled.

At this invitation he deftly scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He placed her down gently, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. He lifted one of her legs and kissing the place where bare flesh met black stocking said with a smirk, "I'll try to be gentle with them this time."

Natalie giggled as she watched him slowly peel each stocking down her legs. Then she eagerly lifted her hips to allow him to remove her skirt. He lowered his head to the now bare flesh at her right hip and sucked at it gently. Her body arched impatiently against him and he grasped the top of her panties, finally sliding them off.

Still holding her hips in place he positioned himself between her legs and dipped his head down between them, literally breathing in her desire for him. He ran his tongue along the slick folds at her core and felt her legs jerk in reaction. Her hands grasped desperately at his hair as he continued to taste her, pleasure her, probing with his lips and tongue until he felt her entire body convulse with orgasm.

Watching her lie gasping as she rode out her first climax he rose and unfastened the buckle of his pants. By the time he reached to unbutton them Natalie's hands were already joining his, pulling at his zipper as he unfastened her bra which he had carelessly forgotten to remove earlier. He took one taut nipple into his mouth as she reached her hand inside his now open pants to grasp him. He groaned in response and pushed his pants and boxers down and stepped out of them quickly.

Catching him off balance she pulled him down on the bed and positioned herself above him bracing herself with a hand on either side of his head. She gave him one more burning kiss before taking him in her hand again and guiding him into her. His hands found her hips and held her as she took him deeper inside herself and rode him until they reached the brink together and she collapsed exhausted on his chest.

end smut section>

* * *

Natalie laughed so hard she almost spit out the bite of cookie she'd just taken. "You're kidding!" 

"No," he said taking a swallow of wine that was still good even if it had gotten luke warm during their diversion. "I mean I'd looked it up in the dictionary but apparently what I said to him was my refrigerator is unemployed."

"What did he say?" she asked.

He laughed. "Poor guy, he was so confused he just left."

Natalie giggled as she brushed crumbs off the sheets; looking over she saw John looking at her intently. "What?" she asked feeling suddenly self-conscious.

He reached up to touch her face, "I just never thought I'd get to see you laugh again."

She smiled and leaned over to kiss him, "Well it feels good to laugh with you again."

"Uh huh?" he asked kissing her back.

"Um hm," she murmured, "but I have to go."

"Already?" he groaned.

"'Fraid so," she said as she untangled herself from the sheets, "but I'll be back here early in the morning. I have to chaperone Roxy's decorating party with the kids. Come down and join us if you feel up to hanging pink boa."

"I just might do that," he said watching her get dressed.

"You don't really have a choice," she said with a grin, "Roxy knows where you're sleeping."

* * *

He was awakened by a knock on the door. A glance at the clock revealed he'd slept longer than he'd intended. He pulled on his pants as he stumbled to the door and opened it before he could think to check through the peep hole. 

As the door swung open he was shocked to find himself on the receiving end of that all too familiar icy stare from a pair of blue eyes. He blinked at Jonas, trying to clear the sleep from his brain and eyes. "Jonas?" he asked, "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Jonas kept his gaze steady and said firmly, "I just want to make sure you know. If you hurt my mom, you're going to have to deal with me."

To be continued.

**

* * *

Author's note 2:** Crumbs in the sheets dedicated to Tina. Clean parts of the story dedicated to the real Vanessa who had a very similar effect on my life (and who is not a DEA informant to my knowledge).


	7. Chapter 6

**From the end of Chapter 5**

As the door swung open he was shocked to find himself on the receiving end of that all too familiar icy stare from a pair of blue eyes. He blinked at Jonas, trying to clear the sleep from his brain and eyes. "Jonas?" he asked, "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Jonas kept his gaze steady and said firmly, "I just want to make sure you know. If you hurt my mom, you're going to have to deal with me."

* * *

**Chapter 6**

For a moment John didn't know whether to laugh out loud at the little boy's very adult warning or to scoop him up into a hug for his sincere desire to protect Natalie. Finally he decided that since the Jonas clearly wanted to be heard as an adult he would treat him as one. He nodded. "Good to know," he said solemnly, "why don't you come in? You and I should probably talk about this."

Jonas stepped inside, still eyeing him suspiciously as John let the door swing closed. John McBain, who'd faced some of the most dangerous criminals the world had to offer without flinching, found himself feeling strangely intimidated by this eight-year old boy. He also found himself hoping that Jonas wouldn't look around the room too carefully; the half eaten plate of cookies the boy had helped make was sitting beside the bed and John swore he could still smell Natalie's perfume lingering in the room.

He cleared his throat. "Your mom's real lucky to have you looking out for her," he began.

"Not just me," Jonas said, "my uncles too. I have a lot of them. But I'm the one you have to worry about."

"I believe that," John said, "but I want you to know that I don't plan on hurting your mom. I care about her a lot."

"But you hurt her before," Jonas said, his hands clinched in fists at his side.

The kid didn't pull any punches. "Did your mom tell you that?"

He shook his head. "Nobody tells me anything like that, but I've heard people talking about it. They don't think I'm listening or they don't think I understand, but I do. And I know you hurt her real bad. And ever since you came to visit she's been talking on the phone and crying a lot. And I don't like it when she cries."

"Neither do I," John said honestly, "and you're right—I did hurt your mom before. And I even made her cry. And I'm real sorry about that and I'm trying to make up for it."

"Good," Jonas said.

"I'm glad you came to talk to me," John said smiling at the boy who still didn't smile back. "Is there anything else you want to tell me or ask me?"

Jonas shook his head.

"Okay, well… aren't you supposed to be downstairs helping your grandmother decorate?"

He nodded.

"Well I'll tell you what, let me grab a shirt," John said reaching into his open suitcase for one and throwing it on, "and I'll go down there with you."

* * *

By the time they approached the lobby he could hear Natalie's voice, tight with worry, "How could you just let him wander off like that?" 

"Hold your pants on!" Roxy's voice urged, "It's a small hotel, he won't be that hard to find."

"Assuming he's still _in_ the hotel. Assuming he-"

"He's right here," John said as they reached the bottom step and he nudged Jonas forward with a gentle hand on his back. Jonas trudged guiltily towards his mother.

"Jonas! There you are!" Natalie said closing the rest of the distance between them in an instant and throwing her arms around her son. "I was so worried."

"I'm sorry mom," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she said releasing her grip and smoothing his hair, "but where-?" She gave a questioning look to both him and John.

"He came to see me," John supplied, "Jonas and I had some things to talk about."

"You did?" Natalie asked straightening up a peculiar look of panic washing over her face.

"Yeah," John nodded then turning his eyes to Jonas said, "but I think we're clear now, right?"

Jonas nodded and walked away with Roxy who was saying, "Come 'ere, I need you to help me test the lights."

John looked around at the lobby—Christmas decorating Roxy style was in full swing. A large artificial tree had been assembled in one corner and beside it lie an enormous pile of lights waiting to be hung on it. Piles of boa and garland littered the room. A blond girl he recognized from the photos as Sophie stood on the check-in desk affixing pink boa above it like garland. Four other girls ranging in age from around nine to about four, who he could only assume were Natalie's other nieces, were scattered around the lobby engaged in various tasks.

"Sophie sweetheart," he heard Rex call as he rounded the corner with a large cardboard box, "could you _not_ stand on top of the desk and give your father a heart attack?"

The girl turned and flashed an angelic smile at her father. John realized what his brother had been talking about when he called Sophie a little con-artist; he suspected that smile got her just about everything she wanted. Rex set the box down by the tree and walked over to the desk, snatching the girl up and spinning her around as she giggled.

"Sorry if I kinda panicked there for a minute," Natalie said in a low voice as he turned back to her, "Roxy sends me out to buy light bulbs and I come back and my son has disappeared."

"I think that's pretty understandable," John said.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked anxiously.

He smiled to make it clear that he wasn't in any way upset by the conversation. "He just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to hurt you. And to tell me that if I did I'd have to deal with him."

To his surprise Natalie's eyes instantly filled with tears and sensing she wouldn't want to cry in front of everyone he quickly pulled her around the corner. "Hey," he said touching her cheek, "what's wrong?"

She shook her head still trying to hold the tears in and said, "I just swore I wasn't going to let this happen."

"Let what happen?" he asked searching her face, "You mean us?"

"No," she said quickly, "not that. Jonas, I just- You know I grew up so fast because I had to because Roxy wasn't there and I had to take care of myself and Rex and… And I just swore I wasn't going to let that happen with Jonas I wanted him to get to just be a kid. That's part of the reason I came home, but… He's so serious and seems to think I'm _his_ responsibility, it just- What did I do wrong?"

"This doesn't mean you did anything wrong," he assured her, "It means you raised a kid that loves his mom. Which actually means you did something right. And I don't know him very well, but speaking as someone who knows what it's like to be the oldest son of a single mother I think it's pretty natural that he feels protective of you."

She wiped her eyes and said, "You know, there are actually times he reminds me of you." He couldn't tell from her tone if she meant this as something good or bad but before he could find out they were interrupted by Roxy.

"Hey you two here to decorate or you just lookin' for a little alone time," she said sashaying up to them, "'cause if you are I could keep an eye on-"

"We're here to decorate," Natalie said quickly stopping Roxy before the conversation got more suggestive.

"Good," Roxy said, "'Cause I need a tall strong man to get the lights on the top of the tree." She took John by the arm and led him over to the Christmas tree. Jonas was already standing there draped in several strands of lights. "You got 'em working kiddo?" Roxy asked him.

"Yep," he said sounding like a child again instead of the premature adult his mother worried he was becoming.

"Okay," Roxy said, "well you feed them to Johnny and he'll get them hung way up high there."

Jonas flashed John a hint of a smile as he unhooked a strand from around his neck and handed the end to John. As they were stringing the lights Sophie walked over to join them an exaggerated pout on her face. "Daddy says I'm not allowed to climb on anything anymore," she said petulantly.

"Well that's just 'cause he doesn't remember how hard it is to be short," Roxy said sympathetically.

"And because you fall off of stuff and have to get stitches," Jonas added.

"Only twice," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll tell you what, Soph," Roxy said opening the box Rex had brought in, "why don't you help me get the ornaments out while the fellas get the lights all strung up?"

Sophie noticed John and eyeing him curiously said, "Hello, I'm Sophie."

"I'm John McBain," John nodded unable to shake her hand as he was tangled up in the tree, "it's nice to meet you."

"I'm sure it is," she said primly sitting down beside her grandmother who was pulling a selection of flashy ornaments out of the box.

"You know," Jonas said as he fed John more lights, "when my mom was little she used to have pink Christmas trees."

"I did know that actually," John said.

"This isn't the first time Johnny's helped your Nana decorate," Roxy said. "He helped out your mom and me one time a long time ago."

"Really?" the boy asked sounding interested.

"Uh huh," John said, "your mom and I also grew up in the same town."

"Atlantic City," Jonas said.

"That's right," John noticed.

"But they didn't meet till they got here," Roxy continued. "Small world, huh? Probably walked by each other a hundred times and never knew it before then and then… Fate's a funny thing, you know."

John noticed Natalie who had been assisting the other girls look around as if she was trying to see if anyone was watching her and slip out the front door. He was too entangled in his task to follow her but he could see her through the glass windows as she walked out front. To his surprise he realized Michael was standing out front. The two of them stood talking for a moment; he couldn't hear them but Natalie looked upset. She rubbed the back of her neck wearily and stood very close to Michael as if she didn't want to be overheard. Finally she stopped and bit her lower lip, on the verge of tears again as Michael pulled her into a hug.

"Um… excuse me," he heard Jonas say impatiently and realized he'd stopped wrapping the lights through the tree as he watched them. He refocused he attention to finishing their task and a moment later saw Natalie and Michael walk in the front door.

"Dr. Mike!" Sophie called out cheerfully.

"Hey Sophie!" Michael said brightly, "staying away from high places?"

Sophie rolled her eyes, "Unfortunately. What are you doing here? Is somebody sick? If you're here to give me stitches again I don't need any right now."

"Actually," Michael said laughing at the talkative little girl, "I came to see if my good for nothing brother had time to eat lunch with me. Since he supposedly came here to see me and all."

Sophie turned to look at John, realization dawning on her face. "Oh! _He's_ your brother. I don't have a brother. I asked Daddy for one for Christmas but he said he'd rather get me a step-mother first and I don't want one of _those_. I read all about them in Cinderella."

"Well take it from me kid," Michael said patting her on the head, "you don't really want a brother either. They're more trouble than they're worth most of the time."

"I'll vouch for that," John said with a smirk.

"Well you can't take your brother away," Roxy said, "I still have work for him to do. But why don't you stick around. You can spend some quality time with your brother _and_ make yourself useful."

"Or he could make himself really useful and go pick up some lunch for the rest of us," Rex suggested. "I'm starving."

Rex and Michael left together to pick up the lunch order that Natalie had already called in to Rodi's while the others continued with the decorating. As they finished stringing the lights on the tree and began hanging the ornaments Sophie decorated herself with tinsel and pink feather boa. "Hey Nana!" she called to Roxy who was helping the other girls with an inflatable nativity set, "Don't you want to take my picture?"

Roxy jumped up, "I sure do! I've been totally forgetting to take pictures." She ran over to retrieve the camera from behind the front desk as Sophie posed for her picture. "Hey Nattie!" Roxy called, "Come over here by the tree so I can get your picture with your guys."

"Roxy," Natalie groaned in weak protest but she let Roxy drag her over by the tree and arrange her with John and Jonas.

Rex and Michael returned by the time Roxy was finished forcing everyone to pose for pictures and as everyone made their way to the couches to eat John noticed a distant look on Natalie's face. "You okay?" he asked putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said smiling, "I just- I was watching you and Jonas and- I was just being silly and girly."

"How so?" he asked.

She leaned closer and said quietly, "Watching my son and the man I love… it just felt good to see you together."

"Yeah?" he asked, "well I've been enjoying it."

"Really?" she asked smiling more broadly and letting herself lean against him a little, even when Rex gave her a disapproving look.

Later after they'd finished the meal and Michael left Natalie looked around and said, "Well Roxy, I don't think we could fit any more decorations in here."

"You think?" Roxy asked sounding unconvinced as she looked around.

"Actually Aunt Natalie," Sophie said, "we still need an angel or a star or something to put on top of the tree."

"Oh I think we're just going to put you on top of it," her father said tickling her as she giggled.

"She's no angel, Rex," Natalie pointed out with a good-natured smile.

Rex gasped with feigned indignance and put his hands over Sophie's ears, "How can you say something like that about my sweet little girl?"

Before his sister could respond her phone rang; as Natalie looked at the caller ID the smile faded from her face. "I'll be right back," she said rising and walking away.

"So what do you want for Christmas, cutie?" Roxy asked turning to Sophie.

"A new tiara," she answered, clearly having thought of this before.

"Didn't you get two for your birthday?" Jonas asked.

"Yes," she said with an exasperated sigh, "but they're _old_!"

"Men don't understand the need to keep up with the latest trends," Roxy said patting the girl on the knee, "get used to it now."

"What about you Jonas?" John asked.

The boy looked at him for a moment before saying solemnly, "It's a secret."

"You know all about those, don't you McBain," Rex said looking at John steadily.

John nodded, he could hardly deny it. "Used to," he said.

Either out of fortuitous timing or a desire to relieve the tension between the two men Roxy turned to John and said, "You know, I think I had some sleigh bells to hang on the front door. I put them in my top desk drawer in the office in case I needed them for anything else throughout the year-"

"What else would you need sleigh bells for?" Rex asked before quickly adding, "please don't answer that."

"-could you go look for them for me Johnny?" Roxy finished, "I ate too much, I can't move."

"Sure," John said as he stood up. He couldn't exactly blame Rex for harboring resentment towards him, but as he walked he worried what kind of position animosity between them would put Natalie in. Answering that would require knowing what kind of position he and Natalie were in on their own, he thought.

It hadn't occurred to him that Natalie had gone to Roxy's office to take her phone call until he heard her voice from just outside the door. She sounded agitated, almost angry. "-no, I don't think it'll sound particularly good coming from either one of us but I think he deserves to hear it from me. … I said I would, didn't I? … I will just-… Yes!... Thank you. … Okay. … Yeah. …Bye."

As she closed her phone John walked in trying not to let on that he'd been listening. It _had_ been unintentional. "Hey," he said, "Roxy sent me to-"

"We need to talk, John," she sighed.

"Okay," he said thrusting his hands in his pockets trying to prepare himself for whatever she had to tell him.

"Not now," she said, "not here. Later tonight?"

"You want to come by?" he suggested.

She shook her head, "Might be too easy to get distracted." She thought for a moment and then said, "No one's living in my mom's carriage house right now. Can you come there around nine?"

"Sure," he said, "is everything okay?"

He could tell by her face that it wasn't but she nodded anyway as she walked from the office with her arms folded across her chest.

* * *

The level of anxiety he felt as he climbed into the car he was borrowing from Michael that night surprised him somewhat. He and Natalie needed to discuss whatever had been happening between them the last several days and what it meant for their future. He also suspected that Natalie planned on giving him the answers she'd promised, even though he couldn't say she owed him any. But he'd been so convinced she was overestimating how upsetting these answers could be, so why did the impending conversation seem so ominous? 

He discovered a thin layer of ice on the windshield and cursing the sudden drop in temperature looked around Michael's car for a scraper as he turned on the defrost. Not seeing on immediately he opened the glove compartment thinking maybe Michael had stashed one in there. Apparently Michael had stashed quite a few things in there because papers tumbled out as soon as the compartment was opened. Gathering them up John noticed a photograph in their midst and held it where a streetlight was illuminating the dark so he could see.

It was a picture of Michael with Jonas; they were smiling and Michael had his arm around the boy. The picture confused him for a moment and then he noticed something about their faces and bits of information began to coalesce in his mind. The way Michael had urged him to come and then manipulated and planned to force certain things to happen. Natalie's insistence that there were things she couldn't be forgiven. The green Honda peeling out of Michael's parking lot and his disheveled appearance when John arrived. The conversation he'd seen that morning outside the hotel…

He stared at the photograph hoping something would convince him he was seeing things but he couldn't deny it. His little brother and Natalie's little boy had the exact same eyes.

To be continued.


	8. Chapter 7

As he drove towards Llanfair quicker than he probably should have John called Michael and without further explanation demanded that he meet them at the Carriage House. He was scarcely aware of anything during the drive as his mind raced through his discovery. How could she? How could he? 

Natalie opened the door seconds after he pounded on it and could tell immediately that something was wrong; something had happened since the last time she'd seen him a few hours ago. She stepped mutely aside to let him enter which he did, silently, using all of his strength to keep himself under control, knowing if he didn't that he would completely explode.

"John?" she finally asked after they stared at each other in silence for what seemed like hours.

Without saying anything he handed her the photograph he was still holding. She stared at the picture and took a deep breath as realization hit her. "Where did you get this?" she asked quietly.

"I'm borrowing Michael's car," he said in a cold but even voice, "I opened the glove compartment and it fell out."

"Okay," she said taking another deep breath.

He could tell she wanted to say something else but before she had a chance he said, "I can't believe I didn't notice it before. Maybe it was denial. Maybe I just didn't want to see it."

"Don't," she pleaded closing her eyes.

"Because I of all people should have been able to see it," he continued, talking to himself as much as to her, "they look so much alike. They have the exact same eyes for God's sake."

"John-" she tried to interject but now that he was talking he found he couldn't stop.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked.

"Yes," she said fire starting to rise behind her eyes, "that's what-"

"That's right," he said, "that's right that was why I was coming over tonight. You don't think maybe you should have told me before?"

"Yes," she said again taking a hesitant step towards him, "I should have-" He backed away.

"You don't think maybe before we made love on Wednesday night you should have mentioned you'd done the same thing with my brother? Tell me, did it work the same way? Did you just show up at his place with a couple of beers and condoms in your purse?"

The fire behind her eyes flashed and they narrowed in response to his accusation. "John!" she said a warning tone creeping into her voice.

"Because I would have thought that somewhere in one of those conversations we had about Jonas you could have mentioned that the kid was my nephew!"

Natalie stared at him for a moment in disbelief and then did the last thing he would have expected her to do—she laughed. It wasn't anything like her normal laugh; it was harsh and angry sounding and while she was still laughing there was a knock at the door.

She stepped over to the door and flung it open, looking only halfway surprised to see Michael standing there. Michael looked at John's angry face and Natalie who still had a dark smile on her face, "What's going on?" he asked his voice full of trepidation.

"Ask him," Natalie said motioning towards John.

Michael turned questioning eyes to his brother and John stared at those eyes. Those eyes that had stared up at him that morning from the face of an eight-year-old boy. John felt another surge of anger. "Tell me," he said, "does Marcie know?"

"Know what?" Michael asked.

"Of course she doesn't," he said answering his own question, "because Marcie would never be okay with this."

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked.

Natalie handed him the photograph and Michael looked at it but clearly still didn't understand. "He found this in your car," Natalie explained, "and he noticed that you and Jonas have the same eyes."

"Oh God!" Michael said breathlessly.

"So your brother the genius detective put the pieces together and figured out that Jonas is your son."

"John-" Michael said turning to his brother.

"It all makes sense now," John said narrowing his eyes at the two of them.

"Well thank goodness!" Natalie said. Michael, who looked totally stunned, turned to her and shook his head.

"I saw her at your place on Thanksgiving," John said.

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked.

"She was pulling out of the parking lot as I was pulling in," he explained, "I thought it was my imagination… Well I guess I know why you were only half dressed when I got there."

"Yes," Michael admitted, "she _was_ there on Thanksgiving, okay? She came to talk to me which held me up which is why I was-"

"Stop denying it!" John said raising his voice.

"Okay!" Natalie shouted back, "The jig is up Michael, we might as well admit it."

"Natalie-" Michael pleaded.

Natalie snorted with that harsh laughter again and continued, "You're absolutely right, John. Your brother and I have been having a torrid affair for the past nine years. I zipped over to his place on Thanksgiving for a quick roll in the sheets before dinner. And yes, he is, in fact the father of my child."

"Natalie, stop it!" Michael said raising his voice to match hers.

"Oh come on!" she laughed, "You have to think this is funny."

"Funny?" John asked.

"Yeah," she said, "because I have to tell you, I always thought you were good at your job."

John stared at the half crazed woman before him. "What does that have to do with-?"

"Great detective skills, John," she said. "Tell me, do you even own a mirror?"

"A mirror?" he asked.

"Um hmm," she said through a tight smile.

"Why-?"

"Because those aren't Michael's eyes John," Natalie shouted at him, "they're yours."

To be continued.

**

* * *

Author's note:** So yeah… it was a cheap trick that chapter 6 ending. And there have been quite a few in this story. I tell myself you're soap fans and all I've done is use the same tricks soap writers have been using for ages and that on some masochistic level you all must enjoy this kind of thing (I do, I admit it)… but I feel compelled to explain some of the process on this.

For me most of my stories start with a particular image or line that pops into my head that I build the whole story around. In this case there were actually two lines: the first line of chapter 1 "The second year after his mother died…" and the last line of this chapter. To get to that last line I had to create a set up in which John would honestly believe that the child belonged to his brother and because I was generally telling the story from his POV I needed to make you all take the journey too. I hope it's been fun, not annoying.

Creating all of the confusion, all of those other possibilities almost convinced me. I almost changed the story entirely. And I have to say I'm really intrigued by an ending whereby the child isn't John's… so depending on the muse their might be an alternate ending or two in the works, but I'm going to finish up the one that gave me the initial inspiration first.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's note: **Thank you all so much for sticking with me and my muse on this one through all the twists and turns. Thank you all for your feedback.

* * *

John stared at her in disbelief as the room fell silent and all three of them froze where they were. "What?" 

"Oh Jonas and Michael share some family resemblance I'll admit," she said, "something about the shape of his eyes… the way he scrunches them up when he smiles. Something not altogether unexpected considering Michael comes from the same genetic material as his father."

"His father-?" John echoed blankly. He felt suddenly like he'd had too much to drink, the world was spinning.

"You John," she said the anger not gone from her eyes, "he's not your nephew, he's your son."

He shook his head as though that would clear his thoughts. As though it would help him process this.

"I thought the name was a dead give away," she said. When his expression clearly indicated he didn't understand what she was talking about she continued, "I was going to name him John Thomas, after you and your father, but it occurred to me that giving my son a name that was also a euphemism for a part of the male anatomy might be cruel, so I combined them. Jonas."

He tried to find a way to respond—something to say to her but found no words; he turned instead to Michael who seemed to be desperately looking for an escape. "You knew?" he finally managed to ask.

Michael shook his head, "I'm sorry, Johnny, I-"

"Michael's only known a couple of months," Natalie said, "don't blame him. If you want to be mad at someone-"

"Oh I think I can manage to be mad at both of you," John said.

"As soon as he found out he insisted that I tell you," Natalie said.

"Which you didn't," he pointed out.

"I wanted to be able to tell you in person, he said he could get you up here-"

"So that's what this whole trip has been about?" he said reexamining every conversation that he'd had with either of them since his arrival. It made so much sense. "Who else knows?" he asked suddenly. He wasn't sure why it mattered, but for some reason it did.

"No one," Natalie said softly.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I honestly don't care," she said. "There are a few people who might suspect."

"Rex?"

She nodded. "He's never asked me directly but I think so. Although to be honest your visit has probably confused the hell out of him since I'm pretty sure the scenario he was imagining had you knowing and leaving us anyway."

"And so why out of all the people in this town would you pick my brother to confide in?" he asked.

"She didn't," Michael spoke up.

"He figured it out."

"Apparently I'm the only one in this town who can count to nine backwards," Michael said with a grim smile.

"It helps that you're one of very few people who know his real birth date," Natalie said glaring at Michael.

John ran his hand through his hair, still unable to quite believe what he was hearing. "Can one of you please explain to me what you're talking about?"

Natalie took a deep breath. "Jonas fell and broke his elbow playing soccer in September. Michael was the one who treated him in the ER. He looked at the medical records and saw Jonas's birth date and he confronted me about it."

"And what? The kid never had a birthday? How does nobody else know what day he was born?"

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut. "Because he was born at the beginning of August and we celebrate his birthday in October."

He stared at her, "That's how desperate you were to keep me from finding out? You gave our son a new birthday-?"

"It wasn't like that," she said tears starting to break through the mask of anger she'd been wearing.

"Really?" he asked trying not to let her tears dull his anger. "Well how was it then? Enlighten me?"

"Would you just give her a chance to talk, Johnny?" Michael interjected.

John turned to his brother ready to shift his anger back to him again but Natalie spoke first and said, "Michael, you should probably go."

Michael looked back and forth between John and Natalie, "I don't know."

"We have a lot to talk about and we should probably do it alone," she insisted.

"And by the end of it one or both of you will probably need a doctor," Michael said.

"I promise we'll keep the violence to a minimum," she said with a weak smile as she opened the door and motioned for him to step through.

Before he let the door close behind him Michael turned back to his brother and said, "Call me later."

John stared at the floor and didn't answer as Michael turned and disappeared. "This is why you left," he said as the door shut, "you left town to keep me from finding out about the baby."

"No," she said shaking her head slowly, "I had no idea I was pregnant when I left."

"Yeah right," he said dismissively.

"Look John," she said walking closer to him, "I realize that at this point you have no reason to trust me, but there's no point in us having this conversation at all if you're not going to believe a word I say. So let me promise you that everything I say tonight will be the complete and honest truth. My big secret's out, John—I don't think there's anything that could possibly make you angrier with me than you are already so why would I lie now."

"I don't know," he said, "how could you lie about this in the first place?"

"I didn't lie," she said softly.

"Well it was a pretty big omission!"

"Yes," she whispered.

"How could you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I don't know John!" she exploded suddenly, "but I imagine it might be kind of like letting the woman you're sleeping with believe her husband's dead when he's actually rotting in a prison cell."

He stared at her as the words washed over him; he could tell from her expression that she was regretting what she'd said, but it was too late. "So that's what this was all about?" he asked after a moment of tense silence, "this was just revenge?"

"No," she said folding her arms tightly across her chest, "I mean it was at first, yes, I admit it. When I found out I was still so angry and hurt and yeah, I liked the idea of causing you that same pain."

"It's not the same," he said.

"No, but it's pretty close," she said before continuing, "but that was only at first. And after a little while… I don't know if it was sanity creeping in or the hormones making me soft or what… but after a while something happened and I started to forgive you. And I called you."

"Why don't I remember that?" he asked.

"Because your phone had been disconnected," she explained. "I tried your cell I tried you at the hotel and then I called you at work and I found out you were no longer employed there. Apparently, you'd left town."

"So what? You just stopped trying to get a hold of me?"

"No," she said, "it took me another couple days but I worked up the courage to call Michael. I didn't tell him why I just told him I needed to talk to you. And he told me you hadn't just left town, you'd gone to work with the DEA and left the country. You were in the middle of the jungle in South America somewhere and the only information he could give me was the number of some liaison in Lima who might be able to get a message to you. What kind of message could I leave for you? Tell Special Agent McBain to call his pregnant ex-girlfriend when he gets a chance?"

"So you just gave up," he said.

"No, John," she said her eyes flashing again, "you gave up."

"I gave up?" he asked in surprise.

"After Statesville," she said, "you just gave up on us. You just let me walk away."

"You left town!" he said with an angry wave of his hand.

"And made absolutely no effort to cover my tracks. I didn't bother to change my cell phone until after Jonas was born. I paid for everything with credit cards. Hell John, I still have the same email address that I used then. Cristian tracked me down. And let's face it, Cristian was brilliant artist but that was about all he was brilliant at. You're a detective, it's what you do! If he could track me down you should have been able to."

"I thought you left to get away from everything," he explained, "I didn't think you _wanted_ me to track you down."

"I told myself I didn't," she said walking over to the couch and sinking down on it, "I told myself I wouldn't do something so stupid and manipulative. And part of me really did go to clear my head. But no matter how hard I tried not to I kept dreaming of you showing up at my hotel room one day… And who shows up instead, but Cristian. And I don't know if I was angrier at him for not respecting my privacy or because he wasn't you."

"If I had known-"

"You couldn't have," she said softly.

A thought occurred to him suddenly. "Does Cristian know?" It was stupid, but somehow the whole situation would be much worse if Cristian had known about his son before he did.

"I didn't tell him," she said, "he finally figured out I was pregnant. He didn't really take it well. That was a lot of fun. But I think he believed the story I made up. I don't think it ever occurred to him that it was yours. But that was what finally got rid of him."

"He couldn't stand the idea of you having another man's baby," John said, not really surprised.

"No," she said, "so he left. And then I was alone. And it was stupid but I just kept thinking that somehow you'd know. I kept waiting for you to show up one day. But you didn't and I went through it all alone. I took a cab to the hospital when I was in labor. All of those diapers all of those middle of the night feedings, I did it all by myself."

"I'm sorry," he said. He was still unbelievably angry at her, but that didn't mean that she deserved to have gone through all of that alone.

"Don't be," she said, "first of all it wasn't your fault and second… in the end it was good for me. Sometimes there's no one there to rescue you and you have to rescue yourself. I had forgotten that until then."

"All this time," he said, "after you came back to town you had Michael around, you've been keeping tabs on where I was. Why didn't you ever try to get a hold of me?"

She looked up at him tears in her eyes, "Because you know what it's like John—once you start telling a lie, even if it's a lie of omission, it's really hard to stop. And I knew you would find out eventually. After Michael figured it out and he brought you up here… I've spent the last couple days talking to you and making love with you and knowing that sooner or later the bomb was going to drop and it was all going to be over. Which is actually kind of appropriate, because that must have been pretty close to what was going on in your head when Jonas was conceived."

He tried to do the math in his head, "He was born in August?"

"August sixth," she said, "which means he must have been conceived one of the last nights we were together before the Statesville riot."

"And it all comes back to that," he said softly. "And because of what I did then you kept me in the dark for nine years. You kept Jonas and me apart- Jonas. How are we going to tell him?"

She stared at the floor. "He already knows."

"He knows?" It hadn't even occurred to him, but then he thought back to their first meeting. The glare Jonas had given him—it wasn't a glare directed at a stranger but someone he knew and distrusted for a reason. He should have seen it. And yet she worried over her son growing up too fast… How could she possibly put the burden of such knowledge on her own child? "He knew before he even met me, didn't he?" he asked.

She nodded. "Since he was born. I had a picture of you I kept with me the whole time. He's always known what you looked like."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I loved you very much and that you were a good man. And that it wasn't your fault or his fault that you couldn't be with him. He's never asked me anything beyond that."

"That's sick," he said shaking his head.

"It is," she admitted. "Which is a pretty good way to describe what I've done. It was sick and it was wrong and if I could undo it- I would give my life to undo it, but I can't. And there is no apology I can give you that will make up for it. But I am _so_ sorry."

He thought about that little boy who'd shown up at his room that morning with a sincere desire to protect his mother. That little boy who was so serious but also seemed so sweet and genuine. His mind had been so preoccupied with his anger towards Natalie that it still hadn't sunk in that he had a son. That little boy was his son. What was he going to do?

Natalie sighed. "Have a seat John," she said motioning to the chair across from her, "and I'll tell you the rest."

He sat uneasily on the edge of the chair. "There's more?"

"There always is," she said with a weak smile. She took a deep breath. "I was almost five months pregnant before I found out. I know it sounds crazy—I used to hear women tell stories like that and think they must be lying. But I guess I just wasn't thinking clearly and with everything that was happening I just didn't notice when I missed my period. And when I felt sick to my stomach sometimes I thought it was just being on the road and eating too much take out which also explained the weight gain and… I don't know, maybe I was just in denial, but eventually I had to admit that there was something wrong with me. So I got out my laptop and went online and looked up my symptoms and I decided it was depression. And I thought it made sense, you know, considering everything that had happened but because of my family's history with mental illness I wanted to nip it right in the bud. So I found this doctor in the town I was staying in and I went in… I thought I was gonna get some happy pills and instead I walk out with prenatal vitamins."

"You really had no idea?" he asked skeptically.

She shook her head. "I mean the doctor agreed with me about the depression at first but he said he wanted to do an exam, just to rule out anything else. And somewhere during the exam he says that I have this abdominal mass. So I'm thinking, 'Great, on top of everything else I have some kind of tumor.' But then the doctor looks at me and he says, 'Ma'am, is there any chance you could be pregnant.' They'd asked me that already and I said, 'No' because I really didn't even think about the possibility. So I looked at him and kind of laughed and said, 'Well if I was I'd have to be like five months along.' And I think it hit us both at the same moment and that's when he ordered an ultrasound. Turned out my tumor had a heartbeat."

"I imagine that must have been quite a shock," he said.

"It was," she said, "but as awful as it was finding out like that the next four months were worse. Because I had to spend the next four months wondering what I'd done to my baby."

"You mean by leaving town?"

She shook her head and fought for words through the tears he saw welling in her eyes. "Do you know what fetal alcohol syndrome is?" she asked.

"I've heard of it," he said.

"Well it's not pretty. It happens when a woman drinks while she's pregnant and it can cause some really serious birth defects," she said biting her lip.

"You were drinking while you were pregnant?"

"I didn't know I was pregnant!" she insisted a tear rolling down her face. "I was really messed up when I left town, I think you knew that. Honestly, I thought I was being responsible about the whole thing. I wasn't getting smashed in bars I just spent a couple of nights here and there drinking on my own in the safety of my hotel room. I had no idea that I was pregnant, John you have to believe I would have never endangered my baby like that."

"I know," he said. Whatever else she'd done he knew she loved her son and he knew she cared about children, he'd seen it. She wouldn't have done this deliberately.

"They monitored me really closely, because they knew I hadn't had the prenatal care I was supposed to. And all of the tests came back okay but they told me there would be no way to know until after he was born." She paused to wipe a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. "So I spent the whole time just praying and begging God to let my baby be okay. And I swore that if he was I would do everything I could to protect him after that."

"But Jonas is okay?" he asked.

"He's great," she said, "they put this perfect little baby boy in my arms and all I could think about was keeping him safe and giving him the best that I possibly could."

Fixing her eyes with his he said, "And apparently that didn't include me."

She looked away and took a deep breath. "I don't want to say this John, but I need to. And I promised you I would tell you the whole truth and I might as well get this out there now while you're as mad as you possibly can be."

"Just say it," he pressed.

"Based on the information that I had then," she said slowly, "nine years ago, remember how different things were. How different _we_ were. Nine years ago I didn't know if you were really ready to be a father."

She could have slapped him and it would have hurt a lot less. "Ah," was all he could manage to say for a moment.

"John you were so closed off and you spent half your time brooding and at the time I left you were blowing up at everyone and refusing to get help," she said, " I mean come on, John, how many times did you give me the 'I can't do this right now' speech. That's hurtful enough to hear when you're an adult I had no way of knowing if you'd be the same way with a child."

"It wasn't your decision to make, Natalie," he said seething.

"But it was the decision I _had_ to make. And I was wrong. Seeing you these last couple days John, I realized that-"

He stood up wordlessly and walked towards the door. If he stayed he was going to totally lose control and that would only make things worse. If there was a way for things to get any worse.

"I was wrong, John!" she pleaded as she rose to follow him. Not heeding her he walked out the door and headed for his car. He heard her shouting his name as he slammed the door and started backing out of the drive. Saw her standing on the steps of the carriage house with tears running down her face. But he couldn't stop. Not yet.

To be continued.


	10. Chapter 9

He wasn't sure if he ever fell asleep; he spent most of the night sitting in the dark, trying to process everything that had happened over the course of the day. He had a son. He had a son that Natalie had kept from him all this time. Twenty-four hours earlier she had been lying here beside him and the whole time she had been hiding this. 

Michael roused him early, banging on his door. After checking who it was he opened it but didn't say anything. Michael pushed past him into the room saying, "You didn't call me. I didn't know whether to come here or the ER. The way you two were spitting bullets at each other last night I was worried someone might get hurt."

"Why are you here?" John asked, glaring at his brother.

"Why am I here?" Michael repeated blinking at him. "Well aside from the fact that I haven't seen you in two years and really haven't seen much of you at all on this trip I thought I might come by and see how you were taking the news."

"The news that I have an eight-year-old son nobody bothered to tell me about?" he asked sitting down on the couch. "I don't know, Mikey? Is there a right way to take that?"

"So you're taking it in typical John McBain style," Michael said sitting next to him, "you're sitting in a dark room being angry at the world but not actually doing anything about it."

"You know what?" he said angrily, "Don't even start. You should have called me the minute you found out!"

"Yeah _that_ would have been a fun phone call," Michael said rolling his eyes, not rising to meet John's level of anger. "I thought about it. But I decided it was her place to tell you. I made it clear to her that she _had_ to tell you. I arranged for it to happen. But I was gonna let her be the one to tell you. 'Course I hadn't planned on it going down quite like it did but you had to go jumping to your own conclusions-"

"Oh so it's my fault now?"

"It's not about fault, Johnny," Michael said. "It's about what you're going to do about Natalie and Jonas."

"How could she do this?" he asked, scolding himself for the slight flutter he felt even now at the sound of her name.

"She was hurt and scared and mixed up," Michael explained.

"And that makes it okay?"

"No it doesn't," Michael said shaking his head and trying to fix his brother's eyes with his own. "She messed up. She'll admit that if you ask her. But it's not like you never made a bad decision, bro. You got involved with her while you knew her husband was alive and rotting in a prison cell."

"You know what she said," John said leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "she said she didn't tell me because she didn't think I was ready to be a father."

"Were you?" Michael asked without flinching.

John stared at his brother in disbelief. "Where do you people get off even asking that? Did anyone ask her if she was ready to be a mother?"

"I'm sure she asked herself a hundred times," he said, "and I don't know what answer she came up with, but biology didn't leave her much of an option. She had to make a decision where you were concerned."

"And you think she made the right one, don't you?" he said, still reeling from the shock that his own brother would turn on him like this, "You think I'd make a lousy father!"

Michael shook his head. "I have always known you had it in you to be a great father," he said, "the way you stepped up after dad died… but I remember what you were like back then. You were bad enough after Caitlyn died with the brooding and shutting yourself off, but after everything that went down with Natalie and Cristian you just kept getting worse and worse. You didn't do anything but work and you were in trouble there constantly. You were beating up on suspects and flying off the handle at the other guys. I don't know if I would have trusted you with my kid."

"Thanks for your support," John said sarcastically, standing up and walking a few steps away.

"I'm just trying to make you see where she was coming from. I told you, Johnny, I think she made the wrong choice, but she was just trying to protect her child."

John turned to him, "You can't make decisions like that for other people."

"Wasn't that the logic you used when you hid the DNA test results about Cristian," Michael pointed out, "you said you were trying to protect Natalie."

"Yeah," he admitted, "and look what it did. No one's ever let me forget it."

"Maybe not," Michael conceded, "but she forgave you. Natalie forgave you for what you did."

"After nine years!" he said raising his voice.

"She forgave you a lot sooner than that," Michael said, "just took the two of you that long to face each other."

"I don't know if I can forgive her for this," he mumbled.

"Well I got news for you Johnny this isn't about her and this isn't about you or what either of you did back then. Frankly I think you both did some pretty dumb things but you're gonna have to get over it."

"That simple huh?" John asked his brother, "just get over it, move past it."

"Yeah," Michael said, "because you don't have any other option right now. Because what this is about now is the fact that you have a son. And you have to figure out what you're going to do about that yesterday. You don't get to take another nine years to figure it out unless you want to prove that Natalie was right about you in the first place and you're still not ready for this."

John slumped back on the couch. "So what do I do?" he asked softly. He wasn't sure if he was asking his brother, himself or God, but either way no answer came to him.

Michael simply patted him on the shoulder and said, "I dunno. You're gonna have to figure this one out for yourself." He stood up and walked to the door calling over his shoulder, "Call me if you want to get together for lunch or dinner."

He didn't move. He just sat there staring into space. He didn't want to admit it, but they had a point. Nine years ago he _had_ been different. Nine years ago how _would_ he have reacted to the news that he was going to be a father? He and Natalie couldn't be in the same room for any length of time without yelling at each other—would they have been able to coparent a child? Back then he hadn't ever been able to tell Natalie he loved her and he had loved her so much… Damn it he _still_ loved her as much as he didn't want to. He could hate her all he wanted but it wouldn't change the fact that he still loved her.

And there was the other fact that he had to face—in less than twenty-four hours he was getting on a plane and flying back to New Orleans. He was going to be a long way away; how could he be a father to the son he still didn't know at that distance? His job didn't make it possible for him to just drop everything and relocate to a small town in Pennsylvania.

And would it be any better if he were closer? Look at his track record; how many times had her connection with him almost gotten Natalie killed? Could he put a child in that position? Although, he thought ironically, things had improved in his life. He hadn't been targeted by a serial killer for almost a decade now.

And there was no way to build a relationship with his son without facing his mother. Just thinking of her, what she'd done, made him shake with anger. Could he keep Jonas from being caught up in that?

There was another knock at the door. It wasn't Michael; it wasn't nearly obnoxious enough. It was soft, but not too soft. Polite. It was Natalie. He knew somehow even before he opened it.

She stared at him for a minute. That icy blue glare that his son had learned to mimic so perfectly. She took him in; the rumpled clothes, the matted hair. He hadn't changed or showered since they'd last spoken and it was obvious.

Then she said in an efficient, professional tone, "I realize that you don't want to talk to me right now but we have things we have to work out."

"Really?" he asked trying to keep his voice at a monotone as he stepped aside to let her enter.

"I need to know what you plan to do regarding our son," she said.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"Well figure it out," she said raising her voice just slightly.

"I'm trying to do that," he said raising his tone to match hers, "but it's kind of a lot to process in the couple hours I've had."

"I know," she whispered, "but you two have already lost enough time. And I realize that's my fault but-"

"I'm trying to wrap my brain around how much we've lost," he said, "How many things I wasn't there for that we can't get back-"

"Here," she said handing him an oversized book he hadn't even realized she was carrying.

He looked at it blankly. "What is this?"

"Pictures," she said, "of Jonas from birth up to now. There- there aren't as many at the beginning because I was always holding him so I couldn't hold the camera and there wasn't really anyone else around…"

He tried not to let himself think about how hard it must have been for her caring for their infant son by herself. If he let himself think about it he was likely to feel sorry for her, even if it had been her fault. And he didn't want to feel anything but anger towards her quite yet.

"Anyway," she said, "they're duplicates so you can keep them."

"And that's supposed to make up for it?" he asked, "Almost like being there."

Her professional manner wavered and he could hear a catch in her voice as she shook her head and whispered, "Sorry doesn't seem to be enough, I know, but-"

"I just keep thinking about all these things," he explained, "Like, my mother died without knowing she had a grandson."

Natalie gave him a guilty look and said, "No, she didn't."

"What?" he asked in surprise.

She took a deep breath. "When Michael told me she was sick and it didn't look good I had the same thought. So I took Jonas up there on the train and I introduced him to your mother. She knew who he was immediately--I didn't even have to tell her."

Realization dawned on him. "That's why she was talking about you. That's why she told me to go find you."

She nodded. "She told me you were coming. She wanted me to wait till you got there so I could tell you. But I just couldn't do it. Not then--you had enough to deal with. I promised her that I would tell you though. We left the day you got there."

He stared at her disbelieving. He had known her so long; for a few short periods of time he had thought he understood her on such an intimate level, but there were still so many things that surprised him. She had hidden his son from him for nine years and yet she cared enough about his mother, a woman she barely knew, to bring her grandson to visit her on her deathbed. He smiled inwardly in spite of himself; Natalie had never been anything if not unpredictable.

"Anyway," she said reverting to her business-like tone, "you have no legal claim to paternal rights at this point, but if you would like to establish paternity I talked to my lawyer and it won't be too hard and I will fully support you. His last name is Buchanan and I don't know how you feel about it. If you'd like him to have your name… The only thing I ask is that you talk to him about whatever you decide. This is going to be an adjustment and I just want to make it as easy as possible on him."

John nodded as she continued.

"I know that you're working on Christmas but I also feel like you two have missed enough Christmases together so if you want I can send him down to New Orleans for Christmas or afterwards. Whatever you want."

"Would you be coming with him?" he asked not looking at her. He couldn't look at her; the more that he looked at her the more his body yearned to reach out for her. That couldn't happen. Not anymore. That side of their relationship was over for good. He realized she hadn't responded and was forced to look up into her eyes.

"I don't know," she said, "would I be welcome?" Damn those eyes. He knew that look in them; it had been in his own nine years ago. The one that said, 'I'm sorry and I'm worthless but I love you and I need you.' Maybe if she'd listened to that plea from his eyes nine years ago they wouldn't be here now. No. He wouldn't let himself fall into that…

"I don't know," was all he could manage to say.

"Well we have a lot to figure out then," she said.

"I need more time," he said, "I know we have to move quickly, I just-"

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll leave then. Just let me know when you figure anything out."

And she was gone.

He opened the photo album. Just as Natalie had said it chronicled the life of his son from his birth to the present. The vast majority of the photos appeared to have been taken on special occasions—Christmases, birthdays. All occasions he should have been there for that he couldn't make up for. Was it going to make up for missing those if he made sure he was there for every one in the future?

Many of the latter photos much have been taken by Viki or Roxy or someone because Natalie was in them beside her son. Their son. They looked happy. She had been a good mother--he'd told her that himself the day before. How much things could change in a day. And how many things didn't change. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but for better or for worse she still got under his skin in a way no one else could.

* * *

The sun was already down by the time he knocked on her door. Just as nervous as Wednesday morning when he'd first shown up there. When he'd first seen Jonas. His son. Those words still seemed so unreal. 

An intense feeling of déjà vu overcame him when Jonas answered the door again and glared up at him once more. This time he folded his arms on his chest as if he were going to block John from entering but he didn't say anything.

John cleared his throat. "Um… is your mom here?"

"No," Jonas said in a voice that was almost a growl.

"Oh," he said, he hadn't planned for this possibility, "well do you know where she is?"

"Why should I tell _you_?" the little boy asked.

He couldn't think of ever being in a more awkward situation and he honestly had no idea how to proceed. Finally he bent down so he would be closer to eye level and asked, "Jonas do you know who I am?"

Jonas nodded. "You're my father."

"Okay," he said, "well I know I haven't done a great job of that. I haven't been here."

"It's not your fault," he said, "I know. Mom told me."

"Right," he said.

"You lied to me," Jonas said. His little body was tense with anger.

"I lied to you?" he asked in confusion.

"You said you didn't want to hurt my Mom, but you did," he said, "you hurt her before and you hurt her again."

John wished for more than one reason that Natalie were here. He had no idea how to approach this issue. "What did she tell you about it?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," Jonas said, "she didn't tell me anything but she was crying all last night. She was in her room but I heard her. And this morning she went out and I know she went to see you because she took some pictures that she said were for you and when she came back I could tell she'd been crying."

What could he tell this boy? No matter how much he blamed Natalie for everything that had happened he couldn't tell his son it was all his mother's fault. Jonas wouldn't be likely to believe it anyway, but it wasn't something he would say to a child. "I'm very sorry I made her cry," he finally said.

"You said you cared about her," Jonas said.

"I do," he said before he could think about it. If he thought about it, it was the truth though. He _did_ still care about her. A lot. No matter what had happened.

"Then why do you make her cry?" Jonas asked his jaw quivering slightly. John said a silent prayer that he wouldn't start crying. What did he know about dealing with a crying child? He wondered if there was some sort of back up he could call.

"Jonas," he said slowly, "grown-ups do that to each other sometimes. We hurt each other, even when we don't mean to and-"

"It's stupid," Jonas interjected.

He laughed. "You're right it is."

"If I make my cousin cry Mom makes me apologize," he said.

"You think I should apologize to your mom?" John asked.

He nodded. "And maybe she should apologize too. If she did something that made you cry."

So this was what he had been missing all these years; someone to put things in perspective for him. He thought back to Vanessa, that little girl who had done this for him once before. He couldn't do much for her, but he could do something for this little boy.

"You're right," he told Jonas, "but I need to know where she is so I can do that."

Jonas's expression softened and his body relaxed. "She's at work."

He should have known; why hadn't he gone there first? He started to turn to go and then the answer occurred to him. There was a reason he'd had to stop by Llanfair first. He looked back at Jonas. "You wanna come with me?"

Jonas nodded and broke into a smile. He called up the stairs, "Grandma, Dad and I are going to go see Mom at work!" It was only later in the car that he wondered at how shocking those words must have been to Viki. Jonas looked at him impatiently, "Come on!"

To be continued.


	11. Chapter 10

She was standing behind the bar when they walked in, her back turned to them, her hands on her hips, talking with one of the staff. John froze for a minute watching her; he'd seen her behind that bar so many times. All those years ago back when she was possibly the only person who hated him more than he hated himself. He'd gotten her husband killed-- she had every right to. But she hadn't hated him for long, not nearly as long as he deserved and in the end he'd been the one to push her away. 

And after he finally let her clasp hold of him she'd walked away, stormed out, because he'd lied to her about Cris. All so that she could come back into his life and remind him how much he loved her only to show him why he shouldn't. She'd taken his son away from him; that should be enough to kill anything he felt for her. Kept him away from this little boy who he should know so well but had no idea how to relate to. This little boy who made everything seem so simple…

Jonas tugged on his arm and led him towards her. The waiter she was talking to seemed to recognize Jonas and smiled which caused Natalie to turn to see who he was looking at. Seeing the two of them together her jaw dropped. She looked back and forth between them in stunned confusion as she walked out from behind the bar.

When neither of the adults spoke Jonas interceded and said, "Dad came here to apologize for making you cry last night."

Natalie covered her mouth in surprise hearing him call John "Dad" so easily. She cast a nervous look at John and then turning back to her son said, "Honey, your dad doesn't have anything to apologize for. If anyone needs to apologize it's me."

"Okay," Jonas said looking up at her expectantly.

She gave John a desperate look; he could see she was fighting back tears. "I am _so_ sorry…" she whispered.

Jonas turned to his father. "Okay, she apologized. Now you have to tell her that the apology is accepted."

Natalie jumped in before John could say anything. "Jonas," she said, "it's more complicated than that."

He folded his arms and his mouth formed into a slight pout, "Can I use that excuse next time?"

"Jonas," she sighed, a slight warning tone creeping into her voice, "not now."

"What?" he demanded.

Natalie looked around the room before her eyes fell on someone at the pool table. "Matthew!" she called, "Can you come over here for a minute?"

The young man Michael had pointed out John's first night in town walked over. It was still hard to believe that Matthew Buchanan was that grown up. "Matthew," Natalie said, "could Jonas hang out with you for a few minutes? John and I need to talk about something in my office."

"Sure," Matthew said giving her a questioning look but not asking her to elaborate. He turned to John and a look of recognition crossed his face, "Oh hey John!"

"Hey Matthew," John nodded before following Natalie back to her office.

"I am _so_ sorry," she repeated as they stepped into her office, "I'll find a way to explain to him. I… I'm glad you're getting to spend some time together though."

He nodded. "He's a pretty amazing kid. Has a way of looking at things that just… well it really makes some things clear."

She shut the door and covered her face with one hand, "I'm such a coward. I should have told you the minute you got here. I mean obviously I should have told you years ago-"

"Yes you should have," he said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

She continued before he could say anything more. "But as soon as I saw you on Tuesday night I should have brought you back here and I should have told you. But I just wasn't ready for the way it would feel seeing you. I guess I just didn't realize how much I still… and I just let myself get so caught up in being with you even though I knew it was only for a little while, even though I knew it had to end. And you just kept saying all those things about how nothing I said would change the way you felt about me and I knew you were wrong that you-"

He finally held up a hand to stop her. "Let me ask you a question," he said, "when you found out what I'd done. That I lied to you about Cristian. Did that change the way you felt about me?"

She blinked back tears and shook her head. "No matter how much I wanted it to."

He thought for a moment. "You know when I first asked you about Jonas's father you said something. You said that it was a toxic relationship, doomed from the start. Is that what you really think about us?"

She leaned back against her desk and sniffed a little as she folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know. Sometimes it seemed like the only thing we were ever good at was hurting each other."

"But there _was_ more to it than that, right?" he asked staring off into space, thinking back. "There _were _good times, weren't there?"

"Better than good," she agreed softly. "They were too short. But those were some of the best times… this week was…" She bit her lip as she trailed off.

"It was pretty intense," he said, letting himself smile ever so slightly, "Good intense. You also said we were both rebounding. Do you really think I only got involved with you because I was rebounding from Evangeline?"

She looked up at him blankly for a moment. "Evangeline?" she said with a slight laugh, "I haven't thought about her in years. Wow. No, not Evangeline. I mean, I know I got in her face a lot, but she was never half the competition Caitlyn was."

"Caitlyn?" he asked in surprise, "Caitlyn was dead before I ever met you."

"That was the problem," she said, "If she was alive, like Evangeline, she would have been a lot easier to deal with. Maybe that's _why_ I fought with Evangeline so much, because I _could_ fight with her. I couldn't compete with a ghost. And her ghost was between us. Just like Cristian's. Until…"

She didn't say it. She didn't have to. If Cristian's ghost had been a problem for them finding out that Cristian _wasn't_ a ghost had been the final straw.

John took a deep breath. "You know Michael said something to me today. And, if you see him, please don't tell him that I listened to anything he said. But he actually made a very good point about something."

"What's that?" she asked taking a tissue off her desk and discretely dabbing her eyes.

"We can't take another nine years to figure this thing with you and me out," he said.

"If you mean about Jonas-" she began.

"I don't. I mean I know we have details to work out there too and certainly this affects him, but I'm talking about me and you right now. I'm talking about the fact that as mad as I am at what you did it doesn't mean I can stop caring about you. It doesn't mean I can stop loving you."

"John-" she tried to interject but he wouldn't let her. If he stopped now he might not be able to finish.

"And I'm not going to pretend I can just forget what you did. But I have to forgive you because otherwise it's just going to put Jonas in the middle of us. And if I'm honest with myself, all of those reasons you gave for doing it, they had some merit. And I don't know what kind of father I would have been nine years ago. I don't really know what kind I'll be now but I know what kind I want to be. I want to be a father who shows his son how important it is to go after what you want. What you love. And who you love. And if I'm completely honest with myself, that's you. And I know it's not going to be easy to work out all the details, but all I know is how much better my life has felt this past week having you in it than all those years without you."

He saw her eyes begin to water again and her face start to crumble and put a hand on each of her upper arms. "Okay, please don't cry," he said quickly, "if you cry again I think our son's gonna kick my ass."

"I don't know what to say," she stammered her voice cracking. "I-"

"Hey," he said brushing the hair out of her eyes, "come here." And he wrapped his arms around her. It was strange how much relief he felt at the gesture, as if the last twenty-four hours of not letting himself do that were some kind of burden which had now been lifted. He looked down and lifted her face to his. That beautiful tearstained face that had haunted his dreams for nine years. Slowly he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her.

That kiss seemed to be all the assurance she needed, all the confirmation of his forgiveness, because she kissed him back furiously, tangling her fingers in his hair. Drinking him in as deeply as she could. After a long moment they separated and looked into each others' eyes.

"Any chance you could take the night off?" he asked, "Spend a little time with your son and his father?"

"I think so," she said wiping her eyes, "just let me talk to the staff real quick."

When she emerged from the back, only a hint of redness lingering around her eyes, she found John and Jonas lurking by the pool table. John cast her a smile and then looked down at Jonas and said, "You know I taught your mom everything she knows about pool."

Natalie scoffed. "That's quite an exaggeration."

John winked at his son and shook his head. Jonas wrinkled his nose up at him. "Mom's really good. The guys that come in here to play won't play with her 'cause they're too scared."

"With good reason," John smiled back. "So Jonas… I know I haven't gotten to spend much time with you this trip, and I have to leave tomorrow morning, but hopefully I can come back again soon, or you can come see me."

"Over your Christmas break," Natalie suggested, "we could go visit your dad in Louisiana."

Jonas considered this for a moment. "That could be cool."

"I'm glad you think so," John said, "and I'd like to spend the rest of tonight with you and your mom. We can do whatever you want."

The little boy thought for a moment and smiled slyly up at them. "Well first, I'd like to see if you can really beat Mom at pool."

"He can't," Natalie said with a playful smile as she reached for a cue.

He smiled back at her. "Watch me." Maybe they'd never be a normal family, but for one that was just beginning to come together this felt surprisingly natural. And it was completely "them." And maybe it was crazy, but they'd probably always been. And for that night it didn't matter how they would make it work, it just seemed completely certain that they would.

To be continued.


	12. Chapter 11

Natalie's red hair made it easy to spot her and Jonas among the crowd of passengers emerging from the gates. John smiled as he walked towards them. It still felt so surreal—that little boy hurrying towards him was his son. He was picking his son up at the airport. His son and… what could he call her anyway? "The mother of his son" was certainly a title that carried a lot of weight, but it didn't seem to capture everything.

Jonas stopped a few feet in front of him and grinned up at him. That was definitely Michael's grin; they could be in trouble another eight years down the road he thought to himself remembering how Michael had been in his late teens and early twenties. Apparently trying to act grown up Jonas nodded up at him and said in a very serious tone, "Hi Dad."

John stooped down and wrapped his arms around him and the boy eagerly returned the hug. "Hey you," he said, "it's good to see you."

"Good to see you too," Jonas mumbled in his ear.

He stood up to face Natalie who had caught up with them by now. She smiled wearily at him. His heart skipped a little; damn she looked beautiful. Even with her hair escaping her ponytail wearing a pair of baggy khakis and a long sleeved t-shirt she could still take his breath away.

"How was your flight?" he said wrapping an arm around her and kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Bumpy," she said with a tense sigh, "not fun."

"Mom doesn't like to fly," Jonas explained as they walked towards baggage claim, "but it's a lot safer than driving."

"That's very true," John said as Natalie rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know," she said. "But at any rate I'm glad it's over."

"Want me to get that?" John asked seeing her hoist her heavy looking bag higher onto her shoulder.

She shook her head. "I've got it." He felt surprisingly awkward around her but with all the phone calls they'd made arranging this trip they hadn't talked much about their relationship. It was much easier to discuss Jonas and how everything fit around him than to address where they stood with each other.

Natalie seemed just as unsure of their situation as he was; when they reached to take a suitcase off the conveyor belt at baggage claim at the same moment she actually blushed feeling his hand graze hers. Hmm. This would be an interesting week.

"So I figure you guys are probably hungry," he said directing them towards the car.

"I am," Jonas said eagerly, "I am sooo hungry. I could eat my backpack."

"Please don't," Natalie said with an indulgent smile, "we might need it for the trip back. And I'm sure Dad can find something with a little more nutritional value."

"Nutrition?" John asked with a playful smile. She swatted him gently on the arm.

When they reached the car Jonas clambered into the backseat as Natalie helped him load the suitcases into the trunk. He slammed the trunk shut and realized that she was still lingering at his side. She flashed him another one of those embarrassed smiles and peered up at him under lowered eyelids.

Looking back he could never be sure which one of them initiated it, but somehow they began to move closer to one another until finally their lips met. They'd shared so many kinds of kisses over the years; this one was a long, gentle, intimate kiss. The kiss of two people whose lives were inextricably wound around one another and who had finally given up fighting that.

When she finally pulled back Natalie giggled softly. "It's good to see you," she said.

"Yeah it is," he replied with a smile.

* * *

"Now seriously, if it's too cramped just let me know," he said when they arrived at his apartment after stopping for dinner. "We can still move you to a hotel--I won't be insulted." 

"It'll be fine," Natalie assured him, "the whole point was to spend time with you. That becomes a lot harder if we aren't _with you_."

They stepped into the living room which still bore traces of its usual clutter despite his concerted effort to clean it—an empty soda can on the coffee table, papers scattered on the computer desk, a bag of trash he'd forgotten to take out that morning. The only Christmas decoration was an undecorated artificial tree he'd hastily erected in one corner. He felt a little embarrassed to have them see the place; they were used to living in a mansion. They deserved living in a mansion. Neither of them seemed to mind though, judging by the expressions on their faces.

He cleared his throat. "So um… Jonas your mom said you'd be okay sleeping on the couch."

Jonas walked over and flopped down on his back on the couch as though testing it out. "It'll work," he said. Sitting up he looked around and asked, "Where's Mom gonna sleep though?"

Natalie raised an eyebrow at John. They had not discussed their sleeping arrangements. "Well I uh-" he stammered, "I figured I'd let her have my bed."

"That's nice of you," Jonas said, "where are you going to sleep?"

He was fairly certain his face was turning red. He looked to Natalie for assistance but all she provided was an amused smile. "Well um… we'll work it out."

"There's one problem," Jonas said eyeing the tree, "How's Santa gonna put the presents under the tree if I'm in the room?"

"He'll um… he'll leave them someplace else," Natalie said, "like the uh- kitchen. Or the hall closet."

"Santa's very resourceful," John said.

"I know," Jonas said, "like the reindeer don't like Louisiana cause it's not cold enough so he has to come in a skiff with alligators pulling it."

"Does he?" John laughed, "I had no idea."

"I have a book about it," Jonas explained.

"Jonas spent his first Christmas in New Orleans," Natalie said with a melancholy smile.

"I didn't realize," John said softly, "you told me you spent time here but I didn't ask when-"

She nodded, "He was born up in Lafayette, but we came down here when he was a couple months old." She dabbed the corner of one eye with a fingertip. They still had so much catching up to do; he knew she regretted the parts of their son's life he'd missed just as much as he did.

"Yeah," she continued, "it was just him and me and some take out Chinese because it was the only place open-- Speaking of which, what _are_ we eating tomorrow?"

John grinned at her sheepishly, "Probably take out Chinese. It's either that or-"

Jonas cleared his throat. "Um… excuse me… Mom, he doesn't know?"

She smiled, sitting down next to him on the couch, "I guess not. You want to tell him?"

Jonas sat up and looked very seriously at John. "We have a Christmas dinner tradition."

"Oh," he said looking anxiously back and forth between the two of them, "your mom didn't tell me. I mean I don't have much here-"

"You probably have this," Natalie assured him.

"Well what-?"

"Macaroni and Cheese!" Jonas finally said, "We always have it for Christmas dinner."

John laughed. "What?" Jonas asked indignantly, misinterpreting the cause of the laughter.

"Your father and I have a long history with Mac and Cheese, Jonas," Natalie said ruffling his hair.

"You do?" he asked bewildered.

"Mm hmm," she said, "the year we met it was right before Christmas and I was really sad about something and your dad came and we ate Mac and Cheese together and he made me feel a lot better." She and John exchanged a smile over the fond memory.

"Is that why we started eating it for Christmas?" he asked looking up at her.

"It is," she said.

"Well Mac and Cheese I have," John said with a laugh. "That's about _all_ I have."

"So what time do you have to work tomorrow?" Natalie asked.

"Should be nine to five," he said, "they just need someone in the office really. Even big nasty drug lords tend to take the day off."

She thought for a second, "So we need to get up at like 5:30 or six."

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"Well you don't think we're waiting until after you get off work to open our presents," she said.

Jonas gave him a look to confirm this wasn't an option. "Six in the morning it is," John said with a laugh.

"You know," John said in a more serious tone, "it's really good to have you guys here. I just feel bad—like you're missing out on Christmas with the rest of your family."

"We're not," Jonas assured him, "Sophie already figured out this is an excuse to celebrate Christmas twice. They're having another Christmas when we get back."

"Besides," Natalie said, "it's worth it to be here with you." She looked at her watch and stood up. "But I am going to go take a shower if I have to be up that early. And you young man," she said looking at Jonas, "you're gonna help your dad get your bed all made up and then you're gonna go to bed yourself, right?"

Jonas nodded obediently. As soon as she was out of the room, however, he beckoned his father closer. "I have to tell you something," he said when John sat next to him on the couch.

"Okay," he said.

"There is no Santa Claus."

John looked at him in confusion, not sure what Jonas meant in telling him this, did he think he didn't know?

"Don't tell Mom I know," Jonas added, "she'll be so disappointed I figured it out."

He smiled, "Okay."

"So what did you get her for Christmas?" the boy asked eagerly.

Even though the shower was running and he was fairly certain she couldn't hear them he leaned closer and asked, "Can you keep a secret?"

* * *

By the time Natalie emerged from the shower she found Jonas asleep on the couch and John standing by the window watching him, a smile playing across his lips. 

"It doesn't get old," she said coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around him.

"What?" he whispered.

"Watching him sleep," she said kissing him on the shoulder.

He turned and kissed her deeply on the mouth. "That doesn't get old either," he murmured against her lips.

"No it doesn't," she said with a smile. She turned her back to him to look out the window. "I always liked this city," she said leaning back against him.

"Yeah," he said breathing in the scent of her hair, "kinda sorry my assignment here's up in June."

"That's right," she said, the muscles in her shoulders tightening slightly as she asked, "do you know where they're sending you next?"

"They're not," he said simply.

"What?" she asked, not understanding his statement.

"I'm getting out," he explained. "When this assignment's over, I'm out."

"Really?" she asked with growing interest, "what are you going to do?"

"Not sure," he said, "Been thinking about moving to this little town in Pennsylvania. Spent some time there a while back and there's some people there I'd like to see more of."

"Interesting," she said a smile spreading across her face as she turned to look at him, "anyone I know?"

"Well this gorgeous red head for one," he smiled back, "and this amazing kid of hers."

"Yeah?" she asked.

He nodded. "And now that I'm done planning this trip I'm gonna start making some arrangements to move up there. Just have a few details to work out."

"Like what?"

"Like getting a place to live," he said, "I'm not sure how many bedrooms I need."

"Well you know," she said slyly, "I've been thinking I might be old enough to move out of my mom's house. If you're interested we could maybe get a place together, split expenses."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Could be fun," she said kissing him lightly on the lips.

He searched her eyes for a moment, looking for any hesitation, and barriers left between them and finding none kissed her again. As scalding hot as their kisses had once been they were nothing compared to their kisses now. Now neither of them could find any excuse to hold back, any secrets dividing them.

"So did you figure out where you're sleeping yet?" she whispered in his ear.

"Well I don't know about _sleeping_..." he murmured in response. Natalie cast him a sly smile as he took her by the hand and led her back to his bedroom.

* * *

As they were finishing up dinner the next night John suddenly reached across the table and took Natalie's hand. His eyes silently asked her a question and she nodded in response, understanding him perfectly. She turned to Jonas and said, "Jonas, baby, your father has one more Christmas present for you, if you want it." 

Jonas looked interested but a little confused by her phrasing. "What is it?" he asked.

She turned to John silently urging him to explain. "Well," he said sounding more than a bit nervous, "now feel free to say 'no', but I was thinking, that if you want. And only if you want. I'd like for you to have my last name."

Jonas didn't answer immediately.

Natalie took a breath and prodded, "What do you say? You ready to be Jonas McBain?"

After half a moment's more consideration he smiled and said. "Yeah. I kinda like the way that sounds. Besides, after Mom's last name changes to McBain it would be weird for me to be the only Buchanan."

"What?" Natalie asked.

He clapped his hand over his mouth and gave his father an endearingly guilty look. "I'm sorry," he said, "I ruined the surprise, didn't I?"

"What surprise?" she asked.

John stood and retrieved something from a drawer in his computer desk. "Well I was gonna wait until a little bit later, but I guess this is as good a time as any." He knelt beside Natalie's chair and opened the velvet box. Natalie let out a giggle of mixed shock and delight. "I know things are happening fast, but I still feel like this has been a long time coming. What do you say? Make an honest man out of me?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "Do you even have to ask?" She leaned down and kissed him. "Yes," she said before kissing him again. Straightening up to let him slide the ring on her finger she added, "I mean, you know, for the sake simplifying the names…"

"Merry Christmas Mom!" Jonas grinned.

"Merry Christmas," she said wiping tears of joy from her eyes.

To be continued (but only in the epilogue)


	13. Epilogue

**Disclaimers: **The usual apply.

**Author's note: **Huge thanks goes to Cru for her assistance on ideas for this chapter and the last chapter.

She was really mad this time, he thought as she yanked him forcibly through the "Employees Only" door. Even though he knew he was in trouble he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face; she was really sexy when she was like this.

"This isn't funny!" she said catching his smile. "I am serious John the next time you threaten one of my customers-"

"What?" he asked putting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer.

"I'm trying to run a business here!" she insisted, trying to ignore the suggestive look in his eyes.

"And I'm trying to help," he said nuzzling her neck.

"Well you're not," she insisted, "If you don't get a job soon-" She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation of his mouth against her skin, but only for a moment before saying, "It's not gonna work, John."

"I don't know," he said pulling her body tighter against him and nibbling at her ear, "seems to be."

"I'll still be mad," she assured him even as she felt her breath quicken slightly.

"That's okay," he murmured, "you're cute when you're mad."

Finally finding the resolve to push back from him she looked him in the eye and said, "Then I'll look real hot as I tell you that the next time you pull a stunt like that I am going to kill you."

"What?" he asked again, "I'm supposed to just stand there and let some guy hit on my fiancée?"

"He was a drunk college student, John," she said totally exasperated, "what did you think he was competition?"

"Oh, and if the next guy smacks you on the ass am I just supposed to stand there and watch that too?"

"No, if some creep ever smacks me on the ass you're supposed to stand and watch me break his wrist and then tell the cops he fell and broke it on his own," she said. "You're supposed to trust in my ability to defend myself."

"I trust you," he protested, "I just-"

She grabbed his chin so that she could force him to look at her. "One more time John, and you're dead."

"Okay but-"

"I will kill you and then Uncle Bo will come and arrest me and it will be very sad. And then your son will wind up being raised by Rex. By Rex, John. Do you want that?"

"All right," he finally conceded, "calm down."

But by her expression Natalie had moved on mentally to something else. "Rex," she repeated thoughtfully. She was making him nervous; he could tell from her expression she'd just had an idea and that didn't necessarily bode well for him.

"What about Rex?" he asked.

She patted him on the shoulder and said, "I have to make a phone call. You go out and apologize to my not-so-secret admirer and tell him the next round is on the house."

"Natalie!" he protested.

She pointed him back out towards the bar. "You owe me. I was merciful this time. Didn't even maim you."

He let her push him back out front. The offending frat boy had left already and he couldn't bring himself to be sorry about it. He smiled to himself; there was a time when he would have given everything he had to let drunk college boys be the worst she needed to be protected from. They'd come a long way.

She was right about something though, even if he wasn't quite ready to admit that to her; he needed a new job. All he'd cared about when he moved back to Llanview was being close to Natalie and Jonas—he hadn't even given serious thought to employment. He'd talked to Bo soon after arriving in town but his old job had, of course, long since been filled. He would have been willing to start over as a patrolmen in necessary, but after discussing it with Bo they'd decided it wasn't the best idea. A lot of the guys on the force had served under him, including his replacement. There was too much potential for it to confuse the chain of command.

Natalie hadn't seemed to care if he worked back then; she was just as excited to have him there as he was to be there. Money wasn't really a concern for her—not that he was comfortable living off of her but she assured him she could use his help at Rodi's. And not having a set work schedule gave him plenty of opportunity to spend time with Jonas. They'd gotten to know each other quite well and were close to having the kind of bond he'd always wanted with his kids.

But after more than a month of this it was becoming clear that he was not cut out for running a restaurant. Customer relations was hardly his strong suit and the job required too much of that. Plus, working together didn't necessarily make for domestic tranquility. But what else could he do?

Mentally he ran through nearby towns and what he knew about their police departments. He didn't relish in the idea of commuting, but it might be worth it if it helped preserve the peace.

* * *

"Rex please!" Natalie begged after pulling him into a back table. 

"It's a bad idea Nattie," he said shaking his head.

"For your sister!" she pouted, "Who's helped your sorry ass out more times than-"

"It's for my sister that I'm saying 'no'," he said. "Have you thought about what this is going to mean for you? You're gonna be caught in between us constantly."

"No I won't," she insisted, "because I am going to explain to him that you are in charge and he has to listen to you."

Rex laughed out loud. "Yeah, that's gonna happen."

"And you are going to listen to his input because you value his expertise," she added with a firm smile.

"Nattie!" Rex exclaimed burying his face in his left hand.

"Just talk it over with him, Rex," she pleaded, "make him the offer and set your terms I won't even make you negotiate. Too much."

He sighed. She wasn't going to take 'No' for an answer. And it might not be the worst idea. Not that he felt like admitting that to her at the moment. "Go get him," he said with a wave of his hand.

Natalie grinned and practically skipped away returning a moment later tugging John by the arm. "Have a seat," she told him motioning to the seat across from Rex.

"What's going on?" John asked trying not to sound nervous.

Rex didn't say anything he just looked up at Natalie out of the corner of his eye. This was her idea; he was going to make her explain it. Taking the hint she spoke up. "Well you know how Rex has his own PI firm now?"

"Uh huh," John said wondering what kind of trouble Rex had gotten himself into now.

"It's been doing really well," she continued, "and so they're expanding and they have a position open and he has generously decided to offer it to you."

"He decided?" John asked knowing full well this wasn't Rex's idea.

"You'd be working for me," Rex said, "that means you'd have to listen to me."

"And you can do that, can't you?" Natalie asked leaning forward and propping herself up on the table with her elbows.

John looked back at her out the corner of his eye but said nothing. "And Rex is just going to be thrilled to have your input, since you have all that experience in law enforcement," she continued, kicking Rex under the table.

The two men looked at each other for a moment, both of them fully aware she was pulling both their strings at the moment. "I appreciate what you're trying to do," John said turning to her.

"What _I'm_ trying to do?" she said in feigned confusion, "it was Rex's idea!"

He gave her half a smile, "Natalie I don't think any of us believes that."

"Well it's a good idea," she said straightening up and putting her hands on her hips.

"You've had better," John said.

"Yeah, like that time you decided to make yourself a decoy for the Killing Club Killer," Rex said. Natalie popped him on the back of the head and he winced.

"It would work if the two of you would just put your egos aside for one second," she insisted.

"Natalie-" John began taking her hand.

"It'll work, John. It's something you'll enjoy doing. I'm just trying to get everything sorted out so our family can start our life together," she said giving him the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could manage.

He let out a soft laugh, "Says the woman who keeps postponing our wedding."

Natalie looked at him in surprise, "What does that have to do with-?

"Well you say you want our family to start our life together. Shouldn't we _be_ a family?"

She hadn't expected him to bring up this argument. "I didn't want us to rush into anything," she said meekly.

"Natalie," he laughed kissing her hand, "we have a son who's almost nine years old. I don't think we could be accused of rushing anything."

"Look John," she said exasperated, "I'll marry you tomorrow if you'll just take this job!"

He smiled slowly, "Tomorrow huh?"

Realization spread across her face. She hadn't expected him to take her literally. "Well, John, we can't possibly get everything arranged by tomorrow."

"We wanted something simple, right?" he asked.

"Yes, but-"

"And you said you have your dress already."

"Okay, but-" she tried to interject.

"And I have blackmail material on a justice of the peace so I can make him perform it," Rex offered. He knew he was going to wind up giving in to Natalie about hiring John and he fully enjoyed the opportunity to turn the tables on her. She'd thought she was holding all the cards.

Natalie sighed. Why _had_ she been putting it off anyway? Maybe they were right, maybe this could work. It would save her all the headache of planning a wedding in advance. "You gonna take the job?" she asked John, her lips pursed.

John turned to Rex, "You really offering?"

Rex shrugged, "Well since you're going to be family…"

She took a deep breath. "Well I'll let you two talk. I guess I have some phone calls to make," she said, "and I should probably let our son know."

"Probably," John said with a smile.

"Speaking of which," she said before leaning close to John's ear, "You might want to negotiate some family leave around the beginning of March." With that she straightened and started to walk away.

"Wait," John called after her, "Did you just-? Family leave?"

Natalie turned back with a grin on her face. Had he really thought she didn't have one more ace up her sleeve? She winked at him and nodded as she disappeared into the back.

The End.


End file.
